The Night Of The Deadly Love Potion
by Andamogirl
Summary: Dr. Miguelito Loveless and his new accomplices have planned something very big. But they encounter two problems on the way, namely James West & Artemus Gordon. But Dr. Carlotta Rodriguez has a solution to get rid of them with a love potion. A love potion that will drive the two agents to a fratricidal duel. Introducing AG, the black, blue-eyed, fluffy kitten.
1. Teaser

**THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY LOVE POTION**

 **By Andamogirl**

Author's note: season 2.

Episode tag. This story takes place right after the end of "TNOT Surreal McCoy".

Reference to The Night of the Druid's Blood. Reference to my stories, "The Night of the Mermaid & The Night of the White House Assassins."

I love kittens.

Reference to my story The Night of the Lost Pirate Ship.

Summary: Dr. Miguelito Loveless and his new accomplices have planned something very big. But they encounter two problems on the way, namely James West & Artemus Gordon. But Dr. Carlota Rodriguez has a solution to get rid of them with a love potion. A love potion that will drive the two agents to a fratricidal duel. Introducing AG, the black, blue-eyed, fluffy kitten – and presenting Dr. Loveless's new machine.

 _[West and Gordon are holed up behind a wagon, firing at a bunch of Loveless's men]_

 _Jim West_ _: Know where the ambassador is?_

 _Artemus Gordon_ _: Yeah, saloon basement. He's all right._

 _Jim West_ _: Think you can find him?_

 _Artemus Gordon_ _: What? And leave you here all alone?_

 _Jim West_ _: There's only four of them._

 _[Artemus shoots]_

 _Artemus Gordon_ _: Three. Hardly seems worth your while._

 _Jim West_ _: I thought you were dead._

 _Dr. Miguelito Loveless_ _: Oh, no, Mr. West! I'm afraid I shall never die. Death is too ordinary. The humiliation would kill me._

TNOT Surreal McCoy

Many thanks to my beta reader Tripidydoodah.

WWW

 **TEASER**

 _The Wanderer en-route to Washington_

It was past midnight when Artemus Gordon shuffled out of his sleeping compartment, feeling heavy, wiping one arm across his tired face to clear away the beads of sweat from his eyes.

He sighed. "It's so damn hot…" and, in a flash, he remembered why the Wanderer was now like one very big oven on wheels. The train had stationed under the implacable Colorado's scorching sun for days during Jim's and his last assignment and the accumulated heat was trapped inside.

To fight the heat, Artie had swapped his usual formal flannel pajamas jacket and pants combination for a new one he had rapidly designed and realized yesterday afternoon between two chemical experiments. They were pajamas for summertime or a hot climate made in white lightweight and breathable material (South-West region finest cotton) decorated with silver cats and golden kitten's motifs (that he had embroidered himself): it was composed of a short leg garment, he called 'shorts' and a short-sleeve shirt, without buttons, T-shaped, he called a T-shirt. Even wearing the new light pajamas, he was drenched in sweat and his new pajamas were soaked.

Padding toward the galley, Artemus yawned, scratched his head, mussing his damp hair which was already sticking up in every direction while thinking, 'Tomorrow night I will sleep naked on top of my bed, even if it is not what a gentleman would do. I don't care! No one will know that, except Jim perhaps, if I met him in the walkway while going to the galley to pour myself a glass of water - oh yes! A glass of cold water with ice in it! oh yes, ice, ice…' he interrupted his line of thought to switch to another: He had stocked ice (and perishable food) in a thermally insulated machine he had invented two months ago he called a 'cool box' containing an electrical generator (dynamo), based on the recent research of Zenobe Gramme, a Belgian electrical engineer. That device activated a heat pump (another invention) that transferred heat from the inside of the cool box to its external environment (the galley) so that the inside of the appliance is cooled to a temperature below the ambient temperature of the room.

He smiled, proudly, and went back to his previous line of thought: 'Jim won't care if he sees me naked, it won't be the first time. He will be naked too, I bet, sleeping in the nude like me, with such intense heat…it's the best thing to do, to hell with the proprieties!'

His eyes half-opened he reached the door of the galley, licking his parched lips with a dry tongue, mind solely focused on drinking a big glass of cold water with chunks of ice floating in it. Then he pictured himself taking a long, cold shower as he was all sticky! 'First that and then a cold shower,' he thought.

He entered the room a few seconds later, and… stopped dead in his tracks, discovering Dr. Miguelito Quixote Loveless sitting at the small table, and eating cake, his face shining with sweat in the light of a kerosene lantern he had placed beside him.

More than stunned, Artemus opened his eyes wide and blinked slowly, wondering if he was still asleep and dreaming this. He realized it was real when the diminutive man pointed a gun at him – his own gun! – and cocked the hammer back.

Clack.

He immediately forgot his thirst and his need for a cold shower.

He took a step back. "Loveless!"

Dr. Loveless smiled. "Yes, me. On your knees, Mr. Gordon! Hands on your head!" he commanded. "And don't call for help, or I swear to kill you," he added in an icy tone, menacingly.

Moving to his knees, Artemus complied. "How did you manage to leave the painting?" he asked very curious. "I thought it was impossible."

Loveless grinned. "Impossible? Impossible is not known to Loveless, Mr. Gordon. You should know that by now. I knew that you would put the paintings in wooden boxes to transport them to a safe place, like a vault, to imprison me forever in a painting, and so I chose to be transported in a painting representing a carpentry workshop. I used a saw to free myself… I'm sorry, but there is some sawdust on the floor, beside the dresser…" He observed Artie's wrinkled nightwear and said, "I see that your imagination has no limits, Mr. Gordon. You invented a new kind of nightwear – and it seems to be very practical when it's hot." He smirked and added, in a mocking tone, "Embroidered cats and kittens fabric?"

Ignoring Loveless's last scoffing remark, a very curious Artie asked, 'Tell me, how did you managed to materialize here, while your machine is far away? And not activated?"

Miguelito Loveless chuckled and using his free hand, he pulled out two tuning forks from the left inside pocket of his jacket. "Vibrations move over great distances, Mr. Gordon and nothing can stop them. I'm surprised and a bit disappointed as a fellow scientist – that you didn't know that. I activated my machine at distance with the powerful black tuning fork I have here and I got out of the painting, thanks to the powerful silver tuning fork I also have here, when my machine recognized its special vibration. And voilà! I'm free… free to pursue what I have in mind, and it's very promising. "

Shaking his head gloomily, Artie sighed. "Don't tell me, you are going to build a new machine?"

Loveless smiled, enjoying Artemus's lack of enthusiasm. "So much enthusiasm! I'm so pleased... As you know, I'm a genius, Mr. Gordon, I have already built it. I worked this time on two projects simultaneously…"

Artie smiled smugly. "You did work on two projects, past tense… Your sound vibrations-based machine will be dismantled soon, Doctor."

Loveless's eyes flashed with anger. "You ruined my plan – again. But you won't ruin my next one, because I'm not working on it alone. I have associates, and what we plan is big, very big, and I and they won't let you interfere. They don't like troublemakers. And they eliminate them – brutally, with lots of bullets. I should have tried that before too, to eliminate your partner and you, but I don't like to kill my enemies like that, it's not artistic, and I'm an artist." Suddenly the Wanderer started to slow down, to the sound of brake squeals. Loveless frowned and asked anxiously. "What's happening?"

"The train is slowing down to take on water at the next station." Artemus explained flatly.

The little man smiled happily. "It's perfect! My intention was to hide in the train till the Wanderer reached a station and leave it without being seen, but I was hungry, so I came here. I have to change my plan, now that you know I'm here. This stop comes at a good time!" He moved behind Artemus, lifted his gun and added, "We'll see each other soon. Once again my plan failed because of Mr. West and you, and I will have my revenge. It's a promise. Be seeing you, Mr. Gordon."

He hit Artie, hard, with the butt of his Colt, at the base of his skull. The agent grunted in pain and collapsed like a stone to the floor at the same time the Wanderer came to a screeching halt.

Miguelito Loveless then left the galley and headed toward the door. As it was closed, he changed of direction and moved toward the stable car.

He unlocked the sliding door, pushed it to the side and he slid to the ground, on the platform before disappearing into the night.

A few minutes later the Wanderer jolted forward on the track.

WWW

 _Two hours later_

Half-awake, James West left his sleeping compartment, feeling rivulets of sweat run down his back, needing to satisfy an urgent, natural, need.

He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "So hot…" he said, lips chapped.

It was so hot inside the oven-like-Wanderer that he had abandoned his usual flannel pajamas with long sleeves that buttoned up in the front to sleep in his short underwear. Even with that sweat poured off his face and off the rest of his body.

He had envisaged sleeping in the nude, but that was not what a gentleman would do.

He furrowed his brow. 'On reflection, tomorrow night, I will. No one will know, except you – and Artie, if you meet him in the middle of the night, in the walkway, going to pee – oh yes! Pee! - But Artie won't care if he sees you naked, he and you have seen each other naked numerous time since you started to live with him… and he'll probably be naked too in this heat... being naked is the only way to feel less hot; and to hell with the proprieties!' he thought.

He yawned and scrubbed a weak hand through his hair, already a mass of cowlicks, and padded toward the bathroom.

He suddenly halted when he heard a loud moan of pain. Instantly anxious, he let out, "Artie!" – and completely forgot his urgent need to pee.

He looked inside his best friend's room – finding the door open, but he didn't see him. "Artie? Where are you buddy?"

He heard another moan, louder this time, and headed toward the parlor suite, but stopped in front of the galley. The door was open.

Jim discovered Artemus sitting on the floor, his shoulders hunched rubbing the back of his head. "Artie? What happened?" He knelt beside the older man and noticed blood on his fingers. "Did you fall and hit your head when the train braked? I heard it do that but fell asleep again right after…"

Grimacing in pain, Artie said, "If only… No, I would have preferred that. You're not going to believe it Jim… but Loveless was here!"

Jim was stupefied. "He what?"

Artie nodded and groaned in pain. "Oh, bad idea!... He was here, eating my cakes. He managed to escape from the painting, the one with the carpentry workshop, he used a saw to escape … He took my gun and hit me with the butt of it… Don't look for him. He's gone now. He left the Wanderer when we stopped to take on water at a station, probably opening the door of the stable car, as the door of the parlor car was locked." Using Jim's help, he stood and felt light headed. He swayed on unsteady legs as the world started spinning and he was dizzy, nauseous. "Oooh… everything's spinning, I don't feel good, I need to sit down."

Immediately Jim pulled up a stool and lowered his partner onto it. "Here, Artie. Don't move; I'm going to take care of that injury." He opened a cupboard and took out the first aid kit stored there.

Elbows resting on his knees, fighting to keep down the bile rising in his throat, Artie nodded. "Not moving," he said through clenched teeth.

Placing the first aid kit on the table, Jim took out a bottle of homemade antiseptic solution and a clean cloth. He observed the torn skin for a few seconds; it was red and irritated, but shallow and bleeding a little. He said, "You won't need stitches, buddy, but you'll have a big bump and a mother of all headaches. Brace yourself, it's going to sting." He touched the wound with the disinfectant-soaked cloth, gently, and saw Artie tense up at the sting of the disinfectant and heard a muffled hiss. "I'm sorry."

Lowering his head, eyes closed, Artie said, "It's nothing Jim, go on. He hit me with my own gun, you know? And he took it. I won't see it again. I loved my gun… it was perfectly balanced and the trigger was rapid. I had it for years."

Rubbing Artie's back soothingly, Jim said, "I'm sorry buddy. Was it the one monogramed A.G. on the butt, or the other one, with the pearly butt?"

Opening his eyes, wincing in pain, but managing to keep nausea at bay, Artie responded, "It's the one with the pearly butt. It was on the table, in the parlor suite, where Loveless found it. The other one, the one with my initials, the one you gave me for my birthday, is in my lab, fortunately, I was cleaning it yesterday." He sighed, shoulders hunched. "You know, Loveless told me that he had built a new machine, and that usually makes trouble for us, especially for me. I'm so thrilled!"

Frowning, worried, Jim asked, "What else did he tell you?" He placed a piece of clean cloth on the bloody bump on Artie's forehead.

Holding it in place while Jim was unrolling a bandage, Artie responded, "He told me that he and his associates have planned something very big – and he added the usual threat, he's going to have his revenge because we blew up his last plan."

Nodding, Jim wrapped a bandage around his partner's head minding the aching spot. "Hmm… A new machine? I don't like that. Associates? I like that even less… There, all done. Now you need to…" He was suddenly interrupted by the clattering of the telegraph. "Ah! News from Washington! Might be a new assignment."

Artemus followed his partner to the parlor suite, and watched Jim hit the telegraph key to accept the transmission of the message.

Hardly a few seconds later, the telegraph key went live again, and the two men easily translated the Morse code.

Once the transmission was finished, Jim acknowledged the message and closed the box of faux books, hiding the key. "I was right. We have a new assignment, and it's urgent. Three of the most important scientists of the world have disappeared from an international conference in New-York, an English mathematician, an Italian physicist and a Spanish biologist, all of them were kidnapped. We have to investigate, find them and stop the people who are behind these kidnappings. We'll meet Colonel Armstrong at the Excelsior Hotel, where the scientists are housed, for more details."

Slumping on the couch Artie rubbed his forehead. There was sweat in his eyes again. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. A massive headache had settled there and he grimaced in pain. "For more discretion, I will investigate disguised as a scientist, and I could even let myself be kidnapped… to enter the lion's den, to see what I can do from inside. They have a mathematician, a physicist, a biologist… what about a French chemist? As you know I speak French fluently, and I'm pretty good at chemistry, specializing in explosives…"

Jim smiled, "Yes, I know," and he added, "And you specialize in chemical gas formulas and in various and diverse medicinal remedies too."

Artie smiled too. "True. What do you think of my idea?"

Sitting on the couch beside his best friend, Jim nodded. "I think it's a dangerous idea, but a good one. You would mingle with the other scientists there to gather information and you could then; ensure you're an irresistible target… Don't worry; I'll not be far behind you, keeping an eye on you." He frowned seeing his companion grimace in pain. "How's your head?"

Grunting, Artemus rested his forehead against Jim's shoulder. "Bad… but I'm not nauseous anymore," and as Jim stood, he curled up on the cushions of the couch.

Frowning in worry, Jim said, "I'm going to put some painkilling powder in a glass of water, okay?"

Immediately Artie licked his dehydrated lips, his thirst back. "A glass of cool water, Jim. Add pieces of ice to it, please. I'm very thirsty."

He took the pillow and pressed it on his face, and moaned in pleasure at the coolness of the material.

Jim nodded," Right away, buddy," and he headed back toward the galley – before leaving it in a hurry to run toward the bathroom with the urgent need to pee.

He came back to the parlor suite a few minutes after, holding a glass of green-colored water, tiny ice pieces tinkling, and a wet flannel filled with crushed ice too, already melting thanks to the heat. He found Artemus lying on his back, pillow on his face, his feet off the couch, too small for his frame.

He took the pillow from Artie's face – eliciting a bear-like groan from his partner, and placed it beneath his aching head.

Putting a strong arm behind his best friend's back to help him sit up a little, Jim brought the glass to the other man's lips. "Drink it all. Pain should disappear in a matter of minutes."

Lifting his head, wincing, Artie complied, drinking the potion thirstily, like a man lost in the desert. "Gaaah!" he said, grimacing in disgust. "That's revolting!... But damn! It's good! I was so very thirsty…"

Taking the now empty glass, Jim smiled mockingly and said, "Revolting, you say? It's a painkiller you invented, buddy. Perhaps you should work on it a little longer, to improve the taste."

Artemus took the wet flannel filled with ice pieces and covered his face with it, letting out a long sigh of relief and bliss. It was heavenly. "Thank you for that, Jim, that feels sooo good." He paused and said, "My father, who was a pharmacist, as you know, always managed to make all his preparations nicely colored and pleasant to drink, and even his ointments smelt good… unlike mine. I still have to work on that…"

Sitting on a chair, Jim said, "I would have loved to meet your father. From what I know about him, he was a wonderful man." He saw Artemus flinch and tense, and the older man closed up and kept silent. As it was a sensitive matter he preferred to change the subject and added, "Nice pajamas. It's a very good idea for summer or when it's a furnace inside the Wanderer, like now. I love the embroidered cats and kittens… " Seeing Artie relaxing a little, he added, "Come on, buddy, let me help you to go back to your bed."

Lifting up the pouch of melting ice off his face, Artie shook his head, and regretted it instantly. He winced and slowly rolled in a ball on the couch, "Thanks, but it won't be necessary… I'm fine here. Besides, if I move, I'm going to be nauseous again and I don't want to. Go back to sleep, Jim. It's early. Don't worry about me, it's not the first time I've been hit on the head, and it won't be the last…I got a hard head you know. _I_ got a really _hard head_ you can break stuff on… or not."

Jim saw Artemus smile and sighed inwardly in relief. His good humor had returned. Frowning, worried even so, the younger man asked, "You sure?"

Closing his eyes, tired, Artie said, "Ya, I'm sure. G'night Jim… see ya later…" And he placed the cloth filled with crushed ice on the back of his head.

Seeing Marmalade pad into the room, Jim said, "Marmie, keep an eye on your owner for me, okay?" then he stroked the feline's arching back.

Marmalade purred and leaped on Artie's legs. She settled against her owner's body, nuzzled her head under Artie's chin and purred.

Not sleeping yet, Artie moved closer to the backrest to give more room to his cat. Stroking a hand down his cat's back hearing her purr happily, he finally drifted off to sleep.

Tbc.


	2. Act One

**THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY LOVE POTION**

 **By Andamogirl**

WWW

 **ACT ONE**

 _A week later_

 _New-York railroad yard_

 _The Wanderer, parlor suite_

Marmalade peeked over the rim of the cup of coffee, sniffed, and let out a raspy meow.

Sitting on a stool, in front of the table, Artie chuckled and said, "You're such a curious cat, Marmalade. You already know that you don't like coffee." He took a sip of the black, hot, beverage and then stroked his cat, under its chin and the feline closed her eyes in pleasure and purred.

Marmalade butted her head against Artie's hand and she purred again, louder. Then lay on the table, sphinx style, observing her owner's every move.

Using a small brush, Artemus put some transparent liquid glue onto his cheeks and then he placed a fake sideburn on each one. They completed his disguise of phony moustache, his fake eyebrows and wig – all the fake hair being white. To complete his character's appearance, he put a pair of glasses on his nose. He turned toward Jim, seated on the couch, reading the report Colonel Armstrong had given them one hour earlier, and asked, with a French accent, "How do I look?"

Marmie moved on her hind legs and let out a scratchy sound in displeasure. She reached out with a white and orange paw to touch Artie's bearded cheek.

Artie picked her up, setting her on the floor and said, "I'm not asking you how I look, Marmie, because I know that you don't like me changing my face, it disturbs you. I'm still here, I'm still me."

She sat there, tail curled around her and let out a disgruntled meow.

Artemus sighed and scooped her, setting her on his lap. "Be nice!" he said, waving a stern finger. Looking at his partner, "So how do I look?"

Jim smiled. "Mmmm… Old. You have to look like a grumpy old man, so you should add a small goatee and clip a pince-nez to your nose instead of wearing regular glasses."

Looking at his reflection in the portable mirror set on the table, beside the box containing all his fake beards, fake moustaches, fake eyebrows, etc. Artie said, "You're right," and looked again at his partner. "Is there something interesting in the report? Something the Colonel didn't tell us?"

Closing the report, Jim shook his head. "Mmmm… the three men were kidnapped from their beds, in the middle of the night, in their hotel room, at 24-hour intervals. Nobody saw anything or heard anything. The only things the police found were two pairs of footprints, one small-sized and the other large-sized, on the carpet beside the bed and a chloroform-soaked handkerchief on the floor, in Professor Maccione's room." He suddenly frowned and added, "Wait a minute!" he re-read a passage again and added, "Armstrong forgot to tell us that: from the description of this handkerchief it corresponds to a woman's one! Then a woman was there, small-sized footprints, a handkerchief… She's one of the kidnappers."

Flicking her tail playfully, Marmalade lifted a paw and touched Artemus's goatee. Artie frowned at her and tsked twice. "It's not a toy," he said.

Marmie stopped, nuzzled against her owner's chin, and meowed. Artie petted her head.

Puuuurrrr….

Placing pince-nez glasses on his nose, Artemus replied, "It would seem, yes. We don't know who kidnapped the other scientists though. They didn't leave any trace of their presence. They could be the same persons, or not. But they were obviously more careful."

Jim stood and moving toward the table, he said, "You should also add lots of wrinkles."

Glancing at his face again in the mirror, Artie nodded. "You're right, Jim. I have to look ancient. I found a name for my character, Hippolyte Rochefort. I like the sound of it." He smiled and taking the quavering voice of a very old man, he added, "Help me to stand, young man, I need to go to the galley to prepare dinner…"

Surprised, Jim raised one eyebrow. "There will be a grand buffet at the reception ... I know that you're always hungry, but…"

Faux-old Artemus nodded, "For you, not for me."

Meow! Meow!

He sighed looking down at Marmalade curled on his lap, her big eyes demanding. "And for her. She's always hungry too." He suddenly snapped his fingers, twice. "I almost forgot…I have something for you, Jim." He pulled out a silver box from the pocket of his black jacket. He opened it, revealing a dozen of cigarillos and explained, "The ones with the blue paper ring are genuine cigarillos, your favorites. The ones with the green paper ring are dynamite-like explosive cigarillos, and those with the red paper ring are mini-bomb-like cigarillos. You throw them and when they hit something, they explode. I placed them in a box made with a special indestructible alloy, just in case, to be safe."

Smiling, Jim took the silver cigarillo box, and said, "I like your latest invention very much, Artie. Thank you." And he slid it into the inner pocket of his blue bolero jacket.

WWW

 _Two hours later_

 _Excelsior Hotel_ _, reception hall_

Shoulders hunched, face scrunched, with a pair of pince-nez clipped to his nose, Professor Hippolyte Rochefort (Artemus Gordon) moved toward the large buffet.

He met an old woman there, wearing a blue dress with matching necklace and earrings.

His character was grumpy, but not with women, he thought. French men highly respected women. Their gallantry was legendary, he added in his mind.

She looked at Artie and said, "It's the first time I've seen you, Professor…"

He bowed lightly. "Professor Hippolyte Rochefort from the Faculté des Sciences de l'Université de Paris, Sorbonne, Madame. I just arrived. And you are ?"

She smiled, batting her eyelashes seductively. "I am _enchantée_ to meet you. My name is Elizabeth Covington, from the London University, I'm a botanical specialist in exotic plants …"

He smiled, both pleased and proud to see that his perfect disguise could attract a woman. But he didn't have time to flirt, he thought. 'Mission first, old boy', he mused. He said, "I have always loved plants. My wife, Danielle is persuaded that I have the green thumb, but everything green I touch, dies shortly after…" He chuckled softly.

Miss Covington pouted. "You're married?"

Faux Rochefort nodded. "Yes, for 50 years. I still love her like the first day I saw her. It was in Paris, in front of the cathédrale Notre-Dame…"

Miss Covington was visibly disappointed – but for a few seconds only, as she spotted another interesting mustached male beside the large fireplace. 'There are plenty of fish in the sea', she thought. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Professor Rochefort," she said, and left.

Sighing in relief, the special agent took a plate and surveyed the various large presentation platters containing meat, fish, vegetables and desserts… "Oh, yes, mmmm… desserts," and the habitual gourmand Artemus Gordon started to pile petits fours on it.

He was reaching out towards a mini tarte aux pommes, when his hand collided with someone else's.

He looked up at the man who had snatched the tartelet and narrowed his eyes, upset. "It's very impolite, Monsieur," he said with a thick French accent.

The other man, tall, bulky and red-haired, dressed in a badly-made tweed suit just said, "I can't resist apple pies. I saw it first, it's mine."

Hippolyte Rochefort huffed contemptuously – taking in the other man in a flash, and his gaze stopped for a split second on the suspicious bump the brute had under his left armpit – a holster with a gun, he deduced. 'Interesting! Bandit or policeman?' He knew that policemen in civilian clothes, incognito, were mingling with the scientists, to protect them, but people who were 'interested in kidnapping scientists' could be here too, posing as scientists trying to spot a possible target, he thought. 'Okay Artie, it's time for you to let everyone here know who you are and draw attention to yourself – you need to be the next kidnapped scientist!' He raised his chin. "This is not an apple pie, Sir, it's a mini _tarte aux pommes_! It's different. You see an apple pie is like a tourte with…" He stopped when the red-haired man engulfed the petit four, not chewing it once. He frowned said, scornfully, " _Americans_!" then he took a mini lemon pie and raised his voice. "You are all big rude, brutes with a pea in the head!" He touchd his chest and added, "French people are well-behaved, polite and intelligent! You are not, Sir."

Immediately the thug moved into Artemus's personal space in a menacing way and glared at Artie, their noses almost touching. "Are you insulting me, little man?" Then he growled, grizzly-like, in an intimidating way. "I could break your old bones like twigs!" He said.

Discreetly, Artie glanced around him and pleased, he noticed that everyone was looking at him. 'Good!' he thought.

He puffed out his chest. "I, Hippolyte Rochefort, chemist-extraordinaire, the best in France! I have never been intimidated by anyone! You're not scaring me – you big _mammoth_!"

The brute growled, baring his teeth.

Artie heard someone clear his throat, loudly, in the audience and spotted a tall man, dressed in black, with a long scar on his face, staring at the brute and shaking his head reproachfully, brow furrowed in displeasure.

His sixth sense kicked in. The man wasn't a scientist and didn't look like a policeman either – more like a bandit and he was obviously the brute's boss – or partner.

Instantly the thug calmed down, moved back and said, "I'm sorry, old man, I mean Sir. I apologize… I lose my temper easily. Please forgive me," and on that, he left.

He joined the man in black and they both disappeared into the crowd of people gathered there.

He glanced at his best friend standing near the bottom of the stairs and gave him a short nod. Jim immediately followed the two men.

Still in his grumpy old French character, Artemus continued to pile as many petits fours as possible on his plate, salivating hungrily in front of chocolate-covered meringues. 'Mmmm…"

He was suddenly joined by a small, pot-bellied man, almost bald with a thick black beard. "Professor Rochefort? My name is Gunther Eckhardt. I'm a German archeologist. The most famous one…" He said with a thick German accent.

Faux Rochefort nodded. "I have heard about you, Professor Eckhardt… You discovered something very important last month in a remote part of Greece… I read it in the newspaper, a sword…"

Eckhardt nodded with enthusiasm, "Ya, ya, a sword, a plain gold sword! Does archeology interest you, Professor Rochefort?"

Smiling, Artemus nodded, "Yes, I find it fascinating."

Eckhardt grinned. "Really? I'm so glad to find someone who's interested by this new science! And take my work and me seriously." He paused to eat a piece of chocolate cake, and then continued, "That sword belonged to the legendary king of Phrygia, King Midas," he said. "It was a simple sword before he transformed it into a gold sword. It will be the major component of the exhibition on kings and legendary queens of the Antiquity to be held in Washington in a month." He smiled and then added, "Midas's father was King Gordias, the maker of the legendary Gordian Knot. He founded the ancient capital of Phrygia, Gordium, or in Greek, Górdion…"

'Close to Gordon', Artemus thought, hiding a smile. He nodded, "Yes, King Midas… who had the ability to turn everything he touched into gold."

Eckhardt nodded. "Ya, with the 'golden touch'… This sword here is much less famous that its owner, but it is legendary too, because it can turn anything or anyone, like Midas, into gold… But before that, it is necessary to be able to lift it and brandish it twice over the head and nobody was able to achieve it after the death of the king… A lot of people tried since Antiquity – me included - and nobody was successful. Perhaps, one day… "

Artie said, "Midas could transform anything or anyone he touched into gold, but it was more a curse than a blessing. He couldn't eat, couldn't drink, and couldn't touch the people he loved without turning them into gold statues…" He trailed his fingertips on the handle of the sword, totally fascinated. "But this 'power' disappeared when he washed his hands in the waters of the Pactolus, and the sand turned into gold…."

The German archaeologist beamed, impressed by the old man's knowledge. "Very good Herr Rochefort, and who offered that 'power' to King Midas?"

Eying a couple of chous à la crème Chantilly, Artemus responded, "While he was drunk, Silène got lost in the lands of Midas. Midas offered him hospitality, taking care of him. When Dionysus learnt it, he thanked Midas for having taken care of Silène, who had raised him, by granting him a wish. Midas asked the God then for the power to transform everything he touched into gold."

Eckhardt applauded, "Bravo! I didn't know that a chemist could be so interested in mythology. Can I offer you a glass of Champagne, Herr Professor?"

Professor Rochefort smiled. "Mit Vergnügen, Professor."

Eckhardt grinned, pleased to hear the other man speak German." Sie sprechen gut deutsch für einen Franzosen," he said.

Artie smiled. "Thank you. Danke."

Eckhardt gestured toward a waiter holding a tray containing glasses of Champagne. He took two and offered one to Artemus. He raised his. "I propose a toast, to archeology!" he said, smiling. "May that science develop in the future!"

Faux Rochefort lifted his glass. "I agree, and to chemistry!"

They took a sip.

WWW

Discreetly, Jim West followed the tall man in black and the brute into the main street, and watched them enter a house located 20 minutes away from the hotel, in a less populated street.

He climbed the back wall, as the gate was guarded by two men armed with rifles and once inside, he slalomed from trees to bushes, to trees, until he reached the rear entrance of the two storied red brick house. He tried to open the door but it was locked.

He took the lock pick he kept hidden under the lapel of his blue bolero jacket and easily opened the door a few seconds later.

He cautiously entered a vast kitchen, fortunately deserted, and hearing voices coming from the adjacent room, he padded toward the door. He half opened it, slowly, silently and spotted the men he had followed there in a living room decorated all in gold. They were standing beside a large white marble fireplace. Their backs were turned toward him, and he couldn't see the man they were talking to.

But it wasn't necessary. He had recognized Miguelito Loveless's voice.

The little man was saying, "Professor Rochefort you say? A famous French chemist…" He turned toward a man seated in a wheelchair. "I think he would be a great addition to our project."

Focusing on the person seated in the wheelchair, dressed in a black topcoat with a large hood keeping his face in the shadow, Jim heard a croak and then a raspy, broken, voice, said, "Yes… bring… him… here."

Loveless nodded. "It is as if it was already done." Then he looked up at the tall man in black. "Simmons, tell Miss Rodriguez to send her girls to kidnap Professor Rochefort…."

Surprised Jim breathed, "Girls?"

Loveless continued, "They will bring him here after that." He looked up at the brute then, and added, "Brickley, I'm counting on you to make a diversion – that hotel is full of policemen dressed in civilian clothes – divert their attention outside to facilitate the work of Dr. Rodriguez's girls. If you need help, take some men with you."

Brickley nodded. "Yes, Doctor. I just need one man. I'm going to take Oswald, he's clumsy and he's an idiot, and for what I have in mind, he'll be perfect."

Loveless nodded. "Good! Now go! You have work to do." And he watched his two henchmen move toward the door.

Once the two men were gone, he said to the man seated in the wheelchair, "I'll prepare everything for the operation tonight, and I will remove Monsieur Rochefort's brain later."

Jim felt his blood turn to ice in his veins. 'What? Operation? Remove Artie's brain?... my God! Artie!'

Seeing another of his henchmen head toward them, Loveless snapped his fingers. "Bennett, take the Doctor to his room. He needs to rest."

Bennett moved behind the 'Doctor's chair and wheeled it through the door.

Padding back toward the rear door, Jim thought, 'I have to help Artie! Stop his kidnapping, it's useless now that I know where Loveless, his mysterious accomplice and the scientist are. We'll arrest them together with the help of the police and put them behind bars.'

WWW

 _Excelsior Hotel_

 _In Artie's hotel room_

Holding the New-York Herald, Artemus moved on top of the bed, leaned against the sculpted wooden headboard, and glanced at the door.

He was convinced that someone would kidnap him in the middle of the night, and, he was waiting, a pile of all the newspapers he had collected from the lobby settled on the bedside table.

It was 3 AM when he heard someone pick the lock of the door and he closed his eyes – feigning sleep. He heard the floorboard crack and a cloth with chloroform on it was suddenly pressed hard against his nose and mouth.

He felt someone hold his wrists tight, in a vice-like grip.

Playing Professor Rochefort, Artemus abruptly opened his eyes and gasped, looking both surprised and terrified. He struggled weakly, like an old man would, taking deep breaths as if panicking, while trying to break free from a massive woman who was wearing a black leather mask that covered her upper head, down to her lips. She looked like a female wrestler and she was now pinning him on top of the bed.

A second woman, petite, slender, dressed in black like the other one, a mask covering half of her head too, pulled Artie's head back and held the cloth firmly in place.

Soon the chloroform did its job and faux Hippolyte Rochefort found himself unable to move his muscles as if he was really very tired.

Artemus's head started to spin. His eyes closing, Artie ceased struggling and lay on the bedspread, completely unconscious.

The petite woman waited for several more seconds, holding the cloth in place against Artie's nose and mouth to ensure the drug had taken effect before pulling it away, and tucking it back into her jacket pocket beside the bottle of chloroform.

She smiled. "He's out! Let's go!"

WWW

 _Later_

Two gunshots resounded when James West arrived in front of the Excelsior Hotel. There was a dead man lying in the middle of the street, and a second man, as big as Brickley, holding a smoldering gun, without any doubt the shooter was fighting with four policemen in uniform, who were trying to arrest him. Other policemen, in civilian clothes were coming to help their colleagues.

Oswald! Jim immediately thought, and he paled. He had just killed a man at random, to make a Diversion. "Artie's being kidnapped right now!" he said to himself.

Suddenly other gunshots made everyone jump and take cover wherever they could. Two policemen were killed and Oswald too. They collapsed in the street.

Pointing at a man fleeing – whom Jim recognized as Brickley – a policeman in uniform let out, "Let's catch that man over there! He's the one who fired!"

The plain-clothes policemen joined their colleagues.

In a flash, Jim sprang into action: he cleared his gun of its holster and sprinted through the mêlée, rushing inside the hotel.

Outside, the angry policemen were now running after Brickley who had almost reached the end of the main street.

Climbing the staircase at top speed, Jim reached the first floor a few seconds later, ran in the corridor and entered room 14 without knocking… to find himself face to face with two women standing close to the opened window, one petite and slender and one built like a tall bulky man, both wearing black jumps suits and black masks.

The hulky one had an unconscious Artemus hanging over her large shoulder.

In a flash, Jim remembered the footprints left on the carpet during the last kidnapping and knew that it wasn't a man with big feet that had left them. "But a woman! And what woman! A woman built like a mountain!" He thought.

He remembered too Loveless saying, "Dr. Rodriguez's girls."

More like henchwomen.

He would find out who Dr. Rodrigiuez was, later. 'First, I must save Artie', he thought.

His face as if carved in granite, Jim immediately ordered, "Put that man down, now, or I'm going to shoot! Don't make me repeat myself!"

But instead, the petite woman pulled out a gun from behind her back and pointed it at Artie's white head. "Drop your gun or he dies." And to show that she was serious, she cocked back the hammer and placed the barrel against the temple of the unconscious man. "Do it!"

Not hesitating for a split second, Jim lowered his gun and placed it on the floor, to keep Artie safe and because he knew where the two women would take Artemus, the same place Loveless was. It was something the two women had overlooked, he thought.

He hadn't any plan yet, but he would find one in due time, he mused.

He took a step back and raised his hands. "Done."

The petite masked woman nodded. "Don't follow us, or I will kill him. Understood?"

Jim nodded too. "Yes."

The two kidnappers were moving backward toward the window, when the petite woman stopped. "Something tells me that you won't do that, call it _feminine intuition_ ," she said. She took a couple of steps forward and pointed her gun at Jim again.

She fired at close range, aiming at Jim's heart.

He had no chance to dive for cover.

Letting out a cry more of surprise than of pain, Jim was propelled backward by the impact and collapsed heavily against the wall.

He groaned in pain and clasped his hands to his burning chest. His vision tunneled and everything faded away.

He went limp.

The big woman chuckled. "Nice shot, Erika, straight to his heart," she said.

Looking at her partner, Erika said, "I didn't trust that policeman. Now he's dead. Let's move out before his friends come here." She looked down the empty street and in front of the hotel, along the facade, she saw a hay wagon with its cargo. "Perfect! You go first Sam."

Holding Artemus still chloroformed tightly against her, Sam stepped over the windowsill and let herself drop into space.

WWW

 _Loveless's hideout_

 _Operating room_

 _Later_

Dr. Miguelito Loveless moved closer to the old man lying on the operating table and rubbed his gloved hands gleefully. "Perfect! We'll have a fourth brain soon."

Looking up at the man assisting him, he said, "You have to shave his head before I can cut his skull." Ready for use was a bottle of disinfectant and a flannel, and his surgical instruments beginning with the saw.

The henchman grabbed a handful of white hair and using a pair of scissors, he began to cut the white hair… and after a couple of minutes, he frowned, puzzled. He had reached some kind of cap of fine fabric… covering a mass of dark hair flattened using a kind of gel. "Doctor, you should see this…" he removed the 'scalped' wig and showed it to Loveless. "It's a wig."

Loveless turned around and blinked twice, very surprised. "What? A wig?" he said, before frowning and groaning angrily. He pulled off one fake goatee, and then removed all the fake hairs from Artemus's face as well as the phony wrinkled skin. "Artemus Gordon!"

Loveless had just said that when the 'Doctor with the black topcoat' entered the operation room, Bennett pushing his wheelchair. "Artemus… Gordon?" he rasped.

Loveless nodded. "Yes, Artemus Gordon. He's a pesky special agent from the Secret Service… and his inseparable partner James West is probably not far." He looked at Simmons standing next to the door and ordered, "You saw James West in San Francisco last month, find him and bring him here. He and Gordon have a private train. Start there."

Simmons nodded. "Yes Doctor." And he left.

The black-hooded man let out a throaty growl and stared at Artermus's unconscious body with a look filled with hatred. "Kill… him. Now," he rasped, speaking slowly.

Loveless shook his head. "He will die, along with his partner, but not now. I have to think about a creative way to get rid of them…"

Suddenly the black-clad doctor grabbed Bennett's gun and pointed it at Artemus's unconscious form, cocking the hammer back. "He… will… die!" he said with a gravelly voice.

Loveless nodded to his henchman and Bennett disarmed the other Doctor in a flash. "No one is going to shoot Mr. Gordon, he's _mine._ "

Suddenly a brunette woman dressed in a flamboyant red dress entered the room in her turn. "No, he's _not._ He broke into my house, uninvited, and so he's _mine_." She headed toward the operating table and looked down at the man lying on it. She smiled, appreciating his face. "Mmm… He's handsome…"

Upset, Loveless frowned. "He's special agent from the Secret Service, he's dangerous and he's an old enemy of mine, Dr. Rodriguez. I _claim_ him."

Dr. Rodriguez trailed a finger along Artie's jawline. "He's mine," she repeated. "Your claim is denied, Dr. Loveless. I have plans for Mr. Federal agent here…" Then, she grinned coldly, brushing Artemus's lower lip with her fingertip.

Loveless rolled his eyes. "Women!" he muttered.

Carlotta Rodriguez smiled. "Don't worry, Dr. Loveless, he won't be a threat to us, to our big common project – I'm going to give him a potion of mine and soon he'll be obedient to me like a faithful dog." She turned around and gestured toward her trusted henchwoman, Sam. "Come here, Sam!"

Sam moved her massive and muscular body toward Dr. Rodriguez and stopped beside Artemus, surprised to see his face. "It's not the man Erika and I brought here," she said.

Loveless nodded. "Yes, it is. It's him, but he was disguised. He looked like a very old man. Meet Artemus Gordon, one of the two best special agents for the US Secret Service… the other one is his inseparable partner, James West. By the way, tell me, did you see him? He's medium in size, with broad shoulders and slender hips. He has short dark chestnut hair, a square jaw, green eyes and he is usually dressed in a blue suit with a black hat. He has a black gun belt, black boots… He has a black horse too. He loves black."

Sam nodded. "That man was his partner? Erika and I thought he was a policeman. He tried to stop us at the hotel, and Erika killed him."

Loveless froze, opened his eyes wide and paled in shock. He gulped audibly. "She… what?" he asked the blond henchwoman.

The black-clad Doctor gasped in surprise and let out a strangled noise. "What?"

Surprised to see that the two men were incredulous, Sam repeated. "Erika killed him. She shot him, right in his heart in that hotel room. He's dead."

Completely bewildered, the diminutive man blinked a few times, slowly. "What? James West is dead ? That's… that's impossible. I tried to kill him dozens of times and he survived my elaborate plans each time … He's invincible."

The hooded Doctor rasped, "I… wanted… to… kill… him… myself. He's… responsible… for… what… happened… to… me."

Both Loveless and Rodriguez looked at him in total surprise.

Loveless was the first to ask, "How so?"

The black-clad, hooded man sighed. "It's… a… long… story… let's… just….say…that… because… of… him… I…was… badly burnt… my… whole… body… was… engulfed… in… flames…I…almost…lost… my… voice. It's… a… miracle… I… survived, … but… I… still… suffer… like… hell. Each… second… is… atrocious… torture."

Dr. Rodriguez nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that, but you won't kill this man either. Like I said earlier, he's mine and mine only." She looked at Loveless, with a small smirk on her lips. "Your plans failed, obviously, Doctor Loveless. Nothing beats a bullet in the heart. It's not elaborate but efficient. He's dead, good riddance." She pointed at Artie, still unconscious. "Bring this man to my laboratory Sam, and tie him to a chair."

The henchwoman nodded. "Yes, Doctor." She released Artie from the straps immobilizing him on the operating table and took him in her arms, effortlessly. Then, holding the special agent bride-style, she headed toward the door.

Loveless shook his head in disbelief. "I will believe that James West is dead when I see his corpse, not before. I am going to send one of my men to look for him."

Carlotta Rodriguez nodded. "As you wish, but he's dead, believe me, Erika is one of the best female gunslingers in the West," she said, and then she headed toward the door in her turn.

WWW

 _Excelsior Hotel_ _at the same time_

 _Professor Rochefort's room_

Lying on a bed, James West slowly opened his eyes, shifted and instantly winced at the sudden flare of pain in his chest.

He immediately touched where it hurt and grimaced. "Aaah!" and then he blinked twice, amazed to find himself still alive. "I'm still alive! But-but… how?"

He noticed a man moving in his direction, holding a glass of amber liquid. "Yes, you are still alive, Jim, and you are very lucky."

Moving into a sitting position, hand placed on his aching ribs, Jim smiled broadly, recognizing his friend and colleague Jeremy Pike. "Hi Jeremy!"

Pulling up a chair beside the couch, special agent Jeremy Pike sat on it and offered the glass of whiskey he was holding to Jim. "It's whiskey, I think you need it," he said.

Now puzzled, Jim frowned. "Why am I not dead?" he asked before downing the liquor in one gulp.

Pulling out a silver box from the pocket of his jacket, Jeremy said, "That cigarillos box you had in your pocket diverted the bullet – shot at point blank range, right? But the force of the impact knocked you out – and left you a big bruise. I checked. I found you lying on the floor, half an hour ago, passed out." He took back the now empty glass. "No broken ribs?"

Taking the box, Jim said, "No, it would hurt a lot more. Artie made that box for me, it's indestructible…" and he observed it. There was no trace left by the bullet. "I was keeping it in my jacket…It's saved my life." He abruptly paled. "Artie! Those two women, they kidnapped him!" He stood up, swayed on his feet and grimaced in pain. "I need to find him, he's in great danger!… I hope it's not too late! I know where he is."

Pike nodded. "We'll find him. _We_. I'm going to help you, Jim."

Intrigued, Jim frowned. "Why are you here? Did Colonel Richmond send you to help us?" Then he slid his cigarillos box back into his inside pocket.

Smiling Jeremy shook his head. "No, I was here in New York for an assignment. I completed it and I was going to leave the city to head back to Washington when I spotted your horse in the street." He furrowed his brow, worried. "Are you sure you're in shape to move?" He saw Jim nod and added, "What happened to Artemus? And to you? What was your assignment?"

Glancing at his gun, again at his side, Jim said, "I'll tell you everything en route Jeremy. We need to stop Loveless and the others…"

Pike cringed. "Loveless, again."

Jim nodded. "Yes, again. But first we need reinforcements. You go to the police station and then you meet me at the house with some policemen."

Then Jim headed toward the door, Pike in tow.

Simmons hiding in a dark corner of the railroad station watched the two men leave the train and discreetly followed them.

A few minutes later Jim and Jeremy separated.

Lovelesss's henchman chose to follow West and he was very surprised to find him head toward Dr. Rodriguez's house.

Tbc.


	3. Act Two

**THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY LOVE POTION**

 **By Andamogirl**

WWW

 **ACT TWO**

 _Dr. Rodriguez's laboratory_

Hearing a moan, Dr. Carlotta Rodriguez lifted Artemus's chin and slapped his cheek, twice, but not too hard, 'He's so handsome!' she thought. "Wake up, Mr. Gordon, wake up!"

Artemus didn't want to open his eyes; he was so tired. "Mmm… d'n't wanna…"

Carlotta insisted and shook his shoulder. "Wake up!"

Slowly, very slowly, Artie opened his eyes, gritty and burning and he blinked tiredly, feeling the lingering effects of the chloroform that had been pressed over his nose and mouth.

He moaned again, his mouth was dry, his vision was blurred and he was dizzy. His mind was fogged and his limbs numb.

He rasped, "Who… 'r you?" while looking up at the woman holding his chin up.

Dr. Rodriguez smiled. "My name Carlotta Rodriguez, Doctor, specialist in drugs – all kinds of drugs - and you're going to be _mine_ , soon."

Fighting to clear his hazy mind, Artemus frowned, "Wha…?" He glanced around him and saw tables lined against the walls which were covered with scientific equipment, like he had in his own lab, test tubes, microscopes, burners, etc. "Lab?"

Carlotta reached for a glass of _pink_ liquid. "Yes, you're in my laboratory, Mr. Gordon. I have invented a _love potion_. I tested it on two men already, and it works perfectly… "She brought it to Artie's lips. Pinching his nose, forcing him to open his mouth, she poured the love potion inside – and he swallowed instinctively, grimacing afterwards at the bitter taste. "You will be mine, in one minute or so," she said and smiled. "With that potion, you will love me, adoringly. You will worship me, eager to respond to my every wish with enthusiasm, wanting to please me at all costs. You won't be able to live a single minute without me." Once the glass was empty she commanded, "Look at me, Artemus."

Shaking his head, Artemus breathed, "What did you give me?..." His energy coming back, he tried to move but couldn't. He was immobilized by strong ropes.

Carlotta smiled. "I told you, it's a love potion."

Still shaking his head Artemus eyes widened, "What?" His blood ran cold. "What? You drugged me?" And then his eyes lost focus.

Carlotta Rodriguez put the glass back on the table and petted Artie's jaw, noticing his wide eyes with pupils dilated, his flushed cheeks, his lips parted, his ragged breath and the powerful longing reflected in his dark, bright, chocolate eyes. "Yes, I did drug you. That love potion makes a person fall deeply in love with the person he or she is in front of when they drink it. The effect is almost instantaneous." She turned toward Sam waiting silently behind the prisoner. "Release him now, Sam, the potion is working. He's now unable to resist anything I ask of him."

The henchwoman obeyed in a flash. "Yes, Doctor."

Moving upward on his feet, but swaying lightly, still weakened a little by the lingering effects of the chloroform, Artemus felt his cheeks heat up even more as sweat broke out all over his body.

His heart hammering in his chest, he took Carlotta's hand in his and pressed it where his heart was. "I love you so much, cara mia, he said.

Carlotta licked her lips instinctively and it instantly fueled Artie's passion. "Kiss me!" She ordered.

In a flash Artemus leaned forward to kiss her, before pulling her close into his arms, int a possessively tight hug. His lips brushed across Carlotta's neck and he said, "You're beautiful and I love you so much, mi amor." He kissed her lips again, then he nuzzled her hair, like a cat.

Carlotta beamed. "All mine," she said.

Artemus nibbled Carlotta's earlobe playfully and whispered, "Yes, I'm all yours, cara mia. Te amo más que nada, amor."

Carlotta blushed with pleasure and kissed Artie back, running her fingers through the agent's flattened curls, mussing them, and moaning when he deepened the kiss, using his tongue to open her mouth, and she smiled - both in pleasure at controlling him completely and at having a future new lover - granting him access.

She had quickly tired of her two previous love potion-laced-lovers and had asked Sam to kill them. Artemus would live longer, because unlike to the others, he promised to be a fiesty lover… but he would die too in his turn, eventually, because he was an agent of the Secret Service, the enemy, she thought, broadening her smile. 'That's too bad He's so handsome,'she reflected.

She broke the kiss and parted from Artemus's embrace eliciting a disgruntled groan from him and immediately commanded, "Remove your jacket, waistcoat and shirt, Artemus… I want to take a look at you." And he immediately obeyed.

Carlotta smiled, pleased twice, pleased to see this beautiful man strip off his clothes and pleased too that her formula worked perfectly. She had to work on making it airborne now, it would be needed for the next step of the big plan, she thought.

Grinning, Artemus started to remove his black jacket, very excited, his heart pounding in his ribcage. "Yes, my love, right away."

He dropped it on the floor and the jacket was followed by his waistcoat, ribbon tie and shirt.

Moving closer, Carlotta Rodriguez, ordered, "Stay still, and keep quiet," and then she trailed a finger from Artie's navel up to his Adam's apple, making a pause to brush against his pectoral muscles, almost purring like a contented cat.

Sam surveyed Artie's body in appreciation. "Beautiful…"

Carlotta moved closer and kissed Artemus's stubbled chin, while roaming her hands across his bare broad back, feeling goosebumps spreading all over her body. She pressed her face right into Artie's neck and started nipping it gently, paying special attention to his Adam's apple, teeth grazing the skin just so. "Now turn around," she breathed.

Cheeks flushed, Artie obeyed.

Seeing the Comanche tattoo, Carlotta couldn't help but touch it, tracing with her finger the outline of an eagle with spread wings. "An Indian tattoo, fascinating…"

Immobile and silent, Artemus couldn't help but grin with male pride. Women loved to do that with him… and he loved that too.

Carlotta moved back and commanded, "Take off the rest of your clothes."

Grinning, Artemus stepped out of his pants, revealing his short, tight, black underwear, and Carlota fingered the waistband, slowly circling the agent. "Mmmm…"

Suddenly the door opened. She growled, very upset, "What?"

Gunshots resounded and Jim entered the room, holding his gun. He froze; stunned to discover his partner half naked in front of a brunette woman dressed in a flamboyant red dress.

Plus, he noticed that Artemus looked completely enamored with her, and he was grinning like an idiot – and blushing like a boy before kissing his first date.

He frowned, something was definitely wrong here… He looked at the brunette woman. "My name is James West, I am a special agent…"

In a split second he spotted the hulk of a woman grab her revolver and he fired. Sam collapsed on the floor, a bullet in her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I don't usually hurt women, but when someone wants to kill me, I make an exception," he said.

Dr. Rodriguez groaned angrily. "Artemus, pick up the gun and kill that intruder!" she ordered and she watched Artie pick up the gun.

But Jim was faster. He fired first, and the Colt was ejected out of his partner's hand, flying in the air. Disarmed the older man froze, waiting for new orders.

Carlotta commanded, "Stop him Artemus! He wants to kill me, protect me, _querido_." and then she ran toward the back door, Sam following her, staggering, her hand placed on her bleeding shoulder.

Holstering his gun, Jim raised a hand. "Artie, you're obviously not yourself… I bet that you've been drugged. Don't do that."

But Artie didn't obey. He moved toward Jim, his muscles toughened, eyes black in anger, clenching a fist at his side, his knuckles white.

He was ready to fight and protect Carlotta his adored. "I'm going to kill you with my bare hands," he said, his voice hoarse with threat.

But Jim attacked first. He shot a powerful uppercut right to Artie's chin – wanting to avoid a fight – and the older man stumbled backwards into one of the nearby couches.

But Artemus resisted the hard punch, fueled by the desire to protect Carlotta. He leapt forward, throwing his elbow into Jim's stomach.

Jim doubled over and in a flash grabbed Artie by his arm, throwing him down on the flowered carpet. "Stay down!" he ordered.

But Artie got to his feet, his eyes gleaming with anger. He lunged, pulled his fist back and delivered a hard blow to his opponent's face. Jim's head snapped to the side, his teeth clattering with the force of the blow a moan of pain escaping him.

Right after, Artemus lunged again but this time Jim ducked under his partner's arm. He grabbed Artie by the shoulders and spinning him round he slammed him back against the closest wall, face first. "Stop it now! Artie it's me, Jim! Stop it!"

But Artie, breathing hard, was relentless. He threw his elbow into the other man's side, knocking the wind out of him and Jim struggled to breathe for a few seconds.

He pivoted and leaped toward Jim, gritting his teeth. He pulled his fist back and swung harder. It collided with Jim's face a second time, with a solid smack.

The older man slammed his fist into Jim's mouth and immediately a gush of blood oozed from between Jim's lips.

Snarling, Artie thrust his knee into Jim's unprotected groin, and Jim stumbled back, cursing under his breath, remembering painfully that his best friend could play dirty.

It was something he had learned when he was a sailor, in bar fights, in all the ports he had visited, when he was a young man, he recalled.

Frowning, the younger man said, "Okay, that's enough!" He bared his teeth, growled low and this time he knocked his fist hard against Artie's temple to knock him out.

Blood pounding in his ears, dazed and off balance, Artemus grunted, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed on the floor like a sack of bricks, to lie still, passed out.

Kneeling down beside Artie, Jim stared at his best friend's unconscious form. "What the hell happened?" he heard himself say.

Simmons entered the room, gun in hand. "Hands up!" he commanded.

Complying Jim pursed his lips, upset at having been surprised so easily. He slowly turned around and recognized Simmons.

Simmons smiling added, "It's good to see you again, Mr. West. The last time we met, in San Francisco, you were pointing your gun at me. Now it's my turn to point mine at you." At that, he used his free hand to gesture toward the agent's gun. "Drop it to the floor, slowly."

Slowly, Jim started to unbuckle his gun belt… while discreetly pulling on a tab, releasing a miniature smoke bomb hidden inside the buckle.

He dropped his gun belt to the floor and a split second later threw the tiny silver sphere toward the other man's feet. It exploded in contact with the floor and instantly a thick cloud of yellow smoke spread.

Simmons fired. But Jim wasn't in front of him anymore. Coughing, Loveless's henchman fired all around him blindly, hoping to injure him.

Soon the barrel of his Colt was empty.

Cursing under his breath, he took bullets from his gun belt to reload but froze when feeling something cold against his temple: the mouth of a gun.

West's gun.

He dropped his gun and the bullets to the floor. Then he felt a huge pain in the back of his head and blackness engulfed him.

Jim threw Artie over his shoulder. "Time to go home, buddy."

WWW

 _Later, in the Wanderer_

 _Rolling cell_

Once again Artemus hurled himself with all his might against the barred door of the cell, trying to break free, groaning in pain, and once again, Jim winced in sympathy.

Once again, still distraught, Artie said, "Let me go! I have to see Carlotta, I love her! I need her, I can't live without her! Let me go! She's waiting for me!"

Once again he hit the barred door of the cell… and grunted.

Looking at Jeremy standing at his side, anxious, Jim asked, "Are you sure we can't sedate him? He's going to break all his bones doing this."

Pike shook his head. "It wouldn't be prudent, Jim. It could interact with that drug Dr. Rodriguez gave him and have harmful effects. We just have to wait until the effects of that 'love potion' wear off."

Finally, Artemus sank to his knees on the floor, aching all over and too tired to move. "Need… to see Carlotta…" he let out, between pants. "Carlotta… my love," he whined, desperate at not being with her; as his lower lip trembled and tears welled in his eyes.

The two special agents sat on a bench staring at Artemus who was now sleeping, or was unconscious, they didn't know.

Jeremy said, "While you were bringing Artemus here Jim, I entered Dr. Rodriguez's house with 20 policemen, but it was empty. Loveless, the mysterious man in the black cloak, Dr. Rodriguez and everyone else had managed to escape. I discovered Loveless's lab… and what he and that man in black tried to do: recreate a whole brain with parts of the missing – and dead - scientist's brains… I discovered brains kept in jars filled with a viscous, green liquid... some of them had parts missing, and another brain was incomplete with tiny stitches ... the one that had been created… That's unthinkable!" Policemen found fresh graves in the garden and exhumed the bodies. Their brains had been removed." His brow furrowed, upset, he added. "I'd like to know the identity of that mysterious Doctor in the wheelchair… and arrest him along with all the others."

Jim spotted Marmalade padding toward the cell and said, "Fortunately, Artemus has not suffered the same fate as that of the kidnapped scientists… they discovered his true identity before they cut open his skull and Dr. Rodriguez drugged him so that he wouldn't cause any problems…"

Marmie slipped between two of the bars and sat on her hind legs beside her owner's head as she started to lick his cheek, trying to wake him.

Hearing a plaintive moan Jim stood up. He headed back toward the cell. He crouched and stroked the cat's back while watching Artemus's eyes fluttering open. "Artie? Wake up buddy."

Marmalade moved onto Artie's chest, leaned forward and licked her human's chin. A smile appeared on Artemus's lips recognizing his cat's usual way of saying 'good morning'. "H'lo Marmie…" He breathed, as he opened his eyes and blinked, trying to clear his blurred vision. His ears were ringing, his head pounding. He groaned and grimaced in pain. "Ow! What hit me?"

Pulling out the key from the right hand pocket of his jacket, Jim quickly opened the door and knelt beside his partner, who was obviously back to his old self. "Hey, Artie."

Slowly, Artie turned his head to the right and gave Jim a weak smile. "Hey Jim… Where is the herd of buffalo that trampled me? I hurt everywhere."

Relieved, Jim smiled and patted his partner's arm. "Good to have you back Artie…"

Frowning, puzzled, Artemus asked, "Have me back?"

Jeremy entered the cell in his turn, taking Marmie in his arms. The cat who loved everyone, snuggled against the special agent's chest, purring. "Hey Artemus, how do you feel?"

Confused, Artie responded, "Like someone who doesn't remember what happened." He frowned. "What are you doing here? What am I doing lying on the floor or the rolling cell?"

Smiling, Jim asked, "Can you stand buddy?"

Shaking his head, Artie said, "No, I can't, not yet… maybe later, when my body isn't one big puzzle anymore. What happened? The last thing I remember is that woman, Dr. Carlotta Rodriguez, specialist in drugs… She made me drink something, a pink, bitter liquid. It was a love potion…" He blinked several times before his eyes widened. "Oh god! No, not again! Did it work?"

Touching his bruised chin, Jim nodded, "Yes, again, Artie, and it worked, like the first time. You were totally in love with her." He smiled, amused, seeing his partner blush up to his ears in embarrassment. "She controlled you that way. She told you to stop me and you immediately did your best to. We had a fight, I won, and she took the opportunity to flee with Loveless and another mysterious Doctor." He took off his jacket, rolled it into a ball and slid it beneath his partner's head. He then added, "When you woke up in the cell, you started crying out, I quote: "I love her! I need her, I can't live without her! Let me go!" … and as I didn't let you go, you started to hurl yourself against the door, trying to break free… hence the bruises and aches you have everywhere."

Cringing, Artie said, "I'm sorry… I don't remember a thing." He smiled. "At least, it didn't happen the same way that it did the last time someone used a love potion on me…"

Smiling Jim nodded. "Ah yes, I remember. That is something unforgettable…Dr. Désirée Venus – or Dr. Love as I call her – sprayed her love-potion on you to get rid of you while she escaped. All her henchwomen immediately jumped on you covering you with kisses and caresses and they took off your clothes in a flash. You managed to flee – naked - and as you had that elixir on you, you rushed towards the pond located at the back of the garden to get rid of it. You cleaned yourself, but when you exited the pond, all the women were waiting for you still attracted… and I was totally jealous."

Artie smiled broadly and asked his partner. "That elixir had penetrated my skin. It only disappeared a week later. I had to stay hidden in the Wanderer for 7 days - to avoid attracting all the women in Washington – not to mention their furious and jealous husbands and boyfriends." He paused, and serious, he frowned, feeling very bad. "I'm really sorry about fighting you, Jim, and of course you won, how I could beat a man who can knock out four men all by himself regularly?"

Jim chuckled. "Sometimes, it's more."

Kneeling down beside Artemus too, Jeremy said, "Hello Artemus. It's good to have you back. I was in New York when I spotted Blackjack in the street and I offered my help to Jim. Colonel Armstrong assigned me to your team, until Colonel Richmond finds a new mission for me."

Artie smiled. "Welcome on board, Jeremy."

Marmalade left Jeremy's arm to move back on her owner's chest, looking worried.

Meow?

Stroking the cat's head, between its ears, Artie said, "I'm okay, Marmie," and he smiled when the feline rubbed its head against his chin and throat, purring. Looking up at Jim, he asked, "Can you tell me what Loveless was doing?"

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Jim nodded and said, "He tried to recreate a brain with different parts of the missing scientist's brains."

Stunned, Artie stayed silent for a few seconds, then, fascinated, he said, "What? Really? That's very impressive! Loveless is very talented, yes, but I don't think he's qualified enough for this kind of extremely difficult operation, he had to get help or himself be the assistant of a great surgeon…"

Frowning, Jim nodded again, "I didn't think of that, but you're right. There was a man with Loveless, a man in a wheelchair, a man he called Doctor, who was probably that great surgeon. We don't know his name and what he looks like. But as that man's hands were wrapped in bandages, he couldn't operate by himself. He was surely assisting Loveless in the operations…"

Marmalade rolled in a ball on her owner's lap. Smiling Artie, petted her and said, "Don't settle here, Marmie, I can stand now…"

But Marmalade didn't move. She was comfy there.

WWW

 _Later, in the parlor suite_

Marmalade was lapping a saucer of milk under the table while Artemus sitting at the table was sipping a hot coffee when the telegraph suddenly clicked alive.

Sitting on the couch, reading the New York Gazette, Jim was the closest. He stood and hit the telegraph key to accept the reception of the message. A few seconds later, the telegraph key rattled again, and the two men easily translated the Morse code.

Once the transmission was finished, Jim acknowledged the message.

Leaving the galley, a piece of chocolate cake in his hand, Jeremy asked, "What's in the telegram? A new assignment?"

Looking at Artemus, Jim said, "Yes it is. Two banks have been simultaneously robbed, one in Fairfield and one in Bridgeport. After all the men working there fell _instantly in love_ with a woman. She asked them to give her all the money, and they complied eagerly, wanting _to please her_. We have to find out what happened, arrest those who did this and retrieve the stolen money… 4500 dollars in total."

Pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee, Artie scowled and said, "We know what happened: Dr. Carlotta Rodriguez. She used a love potion and two henchwomen."

Sitting down, Jeremy nodded. "I'm wondering how those women managed to 'drug' all those men in the banks… An airborne love potion maybe? Hidden in a perfume spray, perhaps? If I were them, that's what I would have done."

Marmalade jumped onto Artie's lap and the older man said, "Maybe; that's the kind of thing I would do too, but there's another possibility. Those women could have their clothes or their skin, or both, covered with a thin film of love potion to attract men."

Closing the box of faux books hiding the key, Jim said, "Jeremy, you go to Bridgeport, Artie and I will go to Fairfield."

Feeling a massive headache burgeoning Artemus winced. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn't feel good.

WWW

 _Much later, in Fairfield, that night_

Pressing a hand on his aching ribs, holding his saddlebags with the other, Artemus followed Jim inside the Golden Oak Hotel and joined his partner in front of the reception desk.

The old, bald, receptionist said, "'Night gentlemen. I have only one room left, with a single bed and a private bathroom. Are you taking it?"

Jim hesitated for a few seconds.

There were two other hotels in town. Artemus needed to have a bed all for himself to have room, to be comfortable. He was hurting, he thought.

He glanced at Artie who looked terrible his face pale and dark circles under his eyes. Artie was pinching the bridge of his nose, wincing.

His best friend looked ready to collapse to the floor, exhausted, sick and hurting. He was not in shape to go anywhere else, he reflected. He nodded. "Yes, we'll take it," and he signed the register.

Climbing the stairs leading to the second storey was like climbing a steep mountain for Artie and he was panting and sweating when he reached the door of room 201.

Spotting Jim's guilty expression he said, his voice sounding gravelly with fatigue, "Don't feel guilty, Jim, ou had to stop me… and I did a pretty good job myself hurling myself against the rolling cell door… My head hurts, all my muscles are sore and that love potion has lingering effects, like immense fatigue, nausea…" He paused fighting back the nausea that was slowly creeping up his throat – and lost. "Speaking of nausea… oooh! I'm hitting the bathroom first if you don't mind."

He opened the door, and once inside the room, he dropped his saddlebags on the floor and rushed into the en suite bathroom.

He closed the door behind him. Vomiting was a private matter.

But Jim, anxious, entered the small room one minute later and found his partner curled into a ball on the dusty floorboard, moaning in pain. "Artie!" His anxiety spiking, he knelt down next to Artie who erupted into a coughing fit. He pressed the back of his hand to the other man's forehead. "You have fever, Artie. You're sick." He grabbed his best friend's arm and pulled until he was sitting upright. "You'll be better off in a bed than here, sitting on the floor, buddy." With that, he pulled Artie to his feet, and wrapping his arm around his companion's waist, he helped his partner over to the bed and carefully laid his head down on the pillow. "Here, don't move, Artie. I'm gonna fetch a doctor."

Closing his bleary brown eyes, Artie said, "No, no, it's not necessary, Jim. It will pass… " A grimace crossed his flushed face. "I just need to sleep, I will be fine tomorrow morning." And he pulled the pillow over his head, to hide himself, in an attempt to lower Jim's anxiety level.

But it didn't work. Still very worried, Jim sat down on the edge of the bed. "I know what you're trying to do and it's not going to work, you know? What can I do for you? Do you want a glass of water? Maybe a cup of coffee?" No response. "Artie?" He lifted the pillow and discovered his best friend with his eyes closed, sleeping, with his mouth half-opened.

He slid the pillow back beneath Artie's head, then he removed his best friend's boots. Then he undressed his partner till he was in his underwear.

Moving to the other side of the bed, Jim pulled down the bedspread, the blanket and the top sheet and maneuvered Artie there. "Almost done, buddy," he said, before tucking him in.

He took his own clothes off, except his underwear and slipped between the scratchy sheets, feeling Artie's fever radiating from him, feeling his concern rising exponentially. "If you're still sick tomorrow morning, I'll bring the doctor here," he said.

Panting, Artie didn't say anything, still out cold.

WWW

 _The next morning_

The strong smell of coffee woke Artie and he groggily opened his eyes. He groaned loudly and scrubbed his hand across his face. "Oooh… "

Smiling, Jim sat down on the edge of the bed. "Good morning, Artie. I brought you a mug of coffee," he said before pressing the back of his hand against the older man's brow. "No fever."

Groaning again, Artemus managed to pull himself into an upright position. Leaning against the headboard, his head foggy, he reached for the mug of coffee. "Morning, Jim. Thanks…" He took a sip and grimaced. "Gaah! It's awful! Who prepared this horrible stuff? This could bring the dead to life!"

Chuckling, Jim patted Artie's leg. "Then that's exactly what you need to wake you up!" he frowned and added, "You had me very worried last night…" He smiled. "But, fortunately you're feeling better now. Are you in shape to have breakfast?"

Moving out of the bed, Artie swayed for a few seconds then steadied himself. "I'm okay… and I'm hungry. I guess I'm not sick anymore." He smiled too.

WWW

 _Later, in the First National Bank_

Standing beside the open reinforced door protecting the big – empty – safe, Edward Harper, the director of the First National Bank sighed, "I gave her all the money, I was so happy to do it…" he said, still horrified by what he had done. "I remember everything vividly…" Feeling ashamed, the blond-haired man removed his glasses and buried his face in his hands. "God…"

Sympathetic, Artemus said, "It's not your fault, Mr. Harper. You were drugged – and couldn't help but obey to please that woman."

Jim nodded, "About that woman, what did she look like?"

The bell signaling the door opening suddenly rang and the three men immediately turned around, surprised, as a 'bank closed' sign was placed on the outside door.

The door opened and a brunette woman dressed in a sparkling silver dress entered the room, followed by a tall blond, large woman.

Carlotta Rodriguez, smiling like a crocodile was holding a perfume spray. Pressing on the little pink pump, she sprayed a strong, sweet vanilla fragrance all around her…

Opening his eyes wide, recognizing the woman, Harper gasped. "It's her! It's her! It's the woman who stole the money!"

In a flash Jim un-holstered his gun, pointing it at the brunette woman and Artie did so too, aiming his Colt at Sam, the henchwoman. "Madam, in the name of the Secret Service…" But he didn't continue his sentence affected by the perfume which had reached his nostrils. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, "Artie… perfume… airborne… love potion…"

His mind went blank.

Immediately Artie placed his free hand to his mouth and nose. But it was already too late. Everything went fuzzy for a few seconds.

More susceptible to the love potion than Jim because he had been drugged before, Artie flushed, grinned, and said, "Carlotta, querida…"

His heart beating faster, Jim flushed as sweat broke out all over his body. His breath was coming out in pants and he was now looking at Carlotta Rodriguez with eyes sparkling with adoration.

Dr. Rodriguez smiled. "It's a new love potion, airborne and it smells good, doesn't it? And it has no nasty after effects like fatigue and nausea and it acts very quickly, quicker than the last one..."

Still grinning, Artemus moved toward the woman and gently stroked her jaw. "Carlotta… I missed you so much," he said.

Carlotta Rodriguez smiled. "I too, Artemus. Kiss me, querido."

He kissed her.

Carlotta kissed Artie back, opening up her mouth to let him slip his tongue inside. When he started running out of breath she leaned away from the kiss. "Mmmm…" She ran a hand up and down Artemus's arm and rested the other in his curled hair. "You're such a good kisser…"

Pleased, Artie blushed and said, "I'm a very good lover too, Carlotta," and he placed passionate kisses up and down the brunette's neck.

Holstering his Colt, Jim was at Carlotta's side a split second later.

Spellbound he took her hand in his. "Carlotta…" he roughly pushed Artie to one side and said, "I love you so much... May I kiss you?"

Carlotta nodded. But before Jim could move closer, Artie brutally shoved him to one side. "She's mine! Go away! I loved her first," he growled, his right hand curled into a fist.

Eyes cold, Jim faced his partner, hand resting on the butt of his revolver in a threatening gesture. "No, you, go away, Artie. Don't make me repeat it." He looked again at the brunette woman, utterly in love with her. "I want to be your _only_ love."

His face contracted with anger, Artemus grabbed Jim's arm, whirling him around and threw a punch at his partner. The punch hit Jim full on the jaw and sent him sprawling onto the floor. "Carlotta's mine, go away," he repeated, his eyes black. "Before you regret it."

Smiling, Jim stood, "Not bad for an old man," he said mockingly.

While the two other men were glaring at each other, tensed, Edward Harper took the opportunity to move close to Carlotta, and both Jim and Artie, in full grizzly-bear-mode, hit the other man's face in concert. The director of the bank collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Once again, Jim and Artie faced each other, poised threateningly, but this time, their hands moved at the same time to the butts of their guns. They were ready to use them.

Eyes cold and determined, Jim said, confidently, "I'm faster than you, _buddy_. I killed Lightning McCoy, remember? He was the fastest gun in the US, now it's me. Draw your gun and you're a dead man."

Artie huffed, not impressed and not frightened. "Do you remember that man, el bandido, Pedro Sanchez, in Yuma three weeks ago, _compadre_? He was the fastest gun in Mexico… He challenged me to a duel, and I was faster than him. I will win this duel too."

His expression impenetrable Jim said, "I'm going to kill you, Artermus."

Artie smiled. "We'll see."

In a wink of an eye, what was left of fraternal friendship and brotherly love suddenly disappeared. They were now adversaries.

They were now mortal enemies.

Carlotta Rodriguez grinned and mused: her plan had worked perfectly.

She knew they would come here to investigate the robbery of the bank and she was there waiting to have her revenge. She had lost her house, her laboratory, her accomplices, was a wanted fugitive and they were going to pay for it, then, once rid of the two agents, she would continue her plan to create chaos – first in Washington, and then the whole country.

She knew too that the two men would fight each other to be her one and only love… One of the two men would survive, and she would demand he kill himself out of love for her.

She raised a calming hand, "Gentlemen, the bank is not the place to settle this… follow me to a more suitable location for a duel," she said.

WWW

 _Later, outside the city, in a field_

James West and Artemus Gordon were standing in front of Carlotta Rodriguez, each of them ready and excited to start the duel – to be with her.

Carlotta purred, "May the best man win," savoring her vengeance. Then she pulled out an embroidered handkerchief from her reticule.

Sam, her right arm in a sling, keeping her injured shoulder immobile, standing behind her boss, smiled. "I bet on agent West;" she said. "He's younger and looks more like a gunslinger."

Immediately the two men separated putting twenty feet or so between them. They looked at each other, waiting for the signal.

They both lowered their right hand onto the butt of their gun.

Carlotta dropped the square of silk and lace and a split second later, they drew their guns and cocked back the hammer.

Faster than Artemus, Jim pulled the trigger first – but the older man had time to fire too.

The two gunshots were almost simultaneous and they echoed around the field, frightening birds in the trees all around. The acrid scent of gunpowder permeated the air.

Hit square in his middle, Artemus let out a strangled shout of pain as he collapsed to the ground with a thud, still holding his gun, his vision whiting out, blood spilling out over the region between the chest and the waist. "Aaah!" he let out, and gasped.

Jim slid his Colt back into his holster… and he staggered back, grimacing as a fiery pain erupted from his right side.

He noticed blood there that was starting to redden his white shirt.

He pulled up his blood-tainted shirt and looked at his wound. The bullet had made a deep gash in his flesh and blood flowed freely.

He dismissed the wound, deciding it wasn't fatal and, gritting his teeth, he went over to Artemus lying on the grass, bleeding, dying, and smiled broadly, in victory. "I told you I was the fastest," he said.

Using all of his little remaining strength, Artie tried to raise his gun, to fire again, to kill his adversary, to bring him into death with him, so he couldn't have Carlotta's love. But he was far too weak for that. "Car… lo…tta, I love… I… love you… Bésame antes de que me muera…", he croaked, his eyes falling shut.

Carlotta headed toward the dying man, sprawled on the grass, covered with flowers, meeting Jim at Artemus's side.

Swaying on his feet, Jim beamed. "Carlotta, I won the duel, Artemus is dying," he said proudly.

Dr. Rodriguez looked down at Artemus with a wild, almost feral grin. The older federal agent was lying immobile, very pale, eyes closed, spread-eagled on the ground, blood soaking his yellow shirt and seeping out of him into the grass, staining the daisies, pooling around his body.

His was struggling to breathe, taking huge, gasping breaths. But his breathing was rapidly becoming more labored.

Carlotta grinned. "Yes, you did, but he's still alive, but not for long, he's close to the end of his life. But I'm not a patient woman." She glanced at Jim. "Finish him… with a bullet in his head."

Jim cocked the hammer of his Colt. "Right away," he said.

Impatient, Carlotta frowned. "Kill him, now!"

Standing beside Dr. Rodriguez Jim was starting to feel light headed. He was feeling weaker with each second. Suddenly the world went grey around the edges. His vision blurring, he felt his knees buckle underneath him as he fell on his front in the flowery grass.

He somehow managed to roll onto his back, grimacing in huge pain. He pushed against the wound in his side, but blood kept seeping through his hands. "It's nothing Carlotta, just a scratch…", he said, eyes screwed up with pain for a second.

Carlotta smiled coldly. Jim West was dying too.

She wouldn't even have to ask the man to kill himself for the love of her as she had planned to.

Jim saw a flock of birds flying in the blue sky. It was the last thing he saw before succumbing to merciful unconsciousness.

Tbc.


	4. Act Three

**THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY LOVE POTION**

 **By Andamogirl**

WWW

 **ACT THREE**

 _Later_

It was raining when Jim regained consciousness. His vision was blurred and his right side was burning. He rose to his knees, slowly and cried out.

The pain was atrocious.

He felt something touch his head and looked up at his horse nuzzling his hair. "Good… boy," he let out, before gritting his teeth.

He crawled on the grass damp and slippery with water and blood and managed to grab the stirrup. He used it to stand up.

His knees buckled and he dropped to the ground like a stone.

He winced when he slowly stood up again, grabbing the stirrup once more. This time he managed to stay upright, but he was staggering.

He mounted his horse and grabbed the reins in one hand, keeping the other pressed on his wound, a futile attempt to control the bleeding. It was a reflex.

He kicked his horse's sides setting Blackjack in motion. "Take me to Fairfield, big boy," he said, before closing his eyes.

WWW

Brickley watched James West riding away on his horse, the other man leaning heavily against the black stallion's mane. He had watched the duel from behind a group of trees and knew that the agent was gravely injured – and probably heading to the nearest town, Fairfield to find a doctor.

He had thought, for a few seconds, about capturing him – but the agent, even while losing blood profusely, in a bad state, was still dangerous.

He didn't want to take any risk knowing how fast he was with a gun.

But the other agent, wasn't a threat anymore, he mused, moving toward Artemus Gordon, lying in the grass, hoping to find him still alive.

Dr. Loveless had ordered him, "Bring me West and Gordon!" and he would. But first, he had to bring Gordon back to his boss, he reflected.

He stopped at Artie's feet and looked down at the agent. He had been hit square in his midriff and was unconscious. There was blood everywhere.

Lockpick huffed, shook his head and moved threateningly toward Loveless's very big henchman, wanting to protect his owner.

Brickley looked up at the gelding and said, "I'm not going to hurt him, but help him, so calm down…" and Lockpick did.

Brickley knelt next to Gordon and checked for a pulse and found one.

He lifted the other man's limp body in his arms, effortlessly, and then headed toward the agent's horse… which was standing close.

Lockpick nuzzled his owner's hair.

Brickley said, "He's not dead," then he put an unconscious Artemus Gordon across his saddle and secured him there with the rope. "Let's go!"

WWW

 _Much later_

 _Dr. Monroe's house_

 _Fairfield_

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, James West woke up groggily and with a pounding headache. He blinked, trying to clear his blurred vision.

Once it was clear again, he recognized the dark-haired man standing beside him. "Jer… emy," he rasped, realizing three things at the same time: 1. He was injured but didn't remember being shot; 2. His right side hurt like hell – everywhere else had gone numb and 3. He was lying on something soft – a bed - a woman's bed with a flowered bedspread, he noticed and a pillow was cushioning his head. He glanced around him, surprised to find himself in a blue bedroom. "Wha… h'ppen'd?" he asked, tired by blood loss and laudanum, his voice slightly slurred.

Sitting on a chair, Jeremy sighed, "I was going to ask you the same question, Jim. To respond to you, you were shot, in your right side. You collapsed from your horse in the middle of the main street this morning, bloodied and passed out. The local doctor, Dr. Monroe sedated you and removed the bullet. You're going to be alright, but not for a couple of weeks or more. You were very lucky, again, Jim. You're in Dr. Monroe's daughter's bedroom, Bridget."

Sensing that Artemus was in grave danger, suddenly very concerned, Jim asked, his green eyes glazed with pain. "Where's Artie?"

Pike sighed. "I don't know. He wasn't with you," he said. "I searched everywhere in town and in the surrounding area, and I didn't find him. Do you remember something that could help me to find him?"

His eyebrows scrunched together in thought, Jim said, "I'm trying to remember… I… I…" And everything came back to his mind.

His heart nearly stopped.

He swallowed the lump in his throat with a shocked look on his face.

But his mind focused on the sound of the gunshot, on Artie's strangled cry of pain, on Artie's inert form, lying on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood widening around his body.

Jim opened his eyes wide in horror, his stomach twisting. "Blood… Oh God, I killed him," he breathed, looking gray in the face, feeling nausea well up in his throat. His teeth clenched. "I'm gonna… be sick," he grunted, bringing his hand to his mouth.

For a couple of seconds, Jeremy didn't react, staring at Jim with a bewildered look, then noticing that Jim's face was now tinged with green, he leaped from the chair, grabbed the closest receptacle he could find: the wash basin on the dresser, and placed it against his friend's chest – just in time.

Jim choked out some ragged breaths and threw-up everything that was in his stomach. He pulled back then and rested his head against the headboard and let out a strangled sob.

Jeremy put the wash basin back on the dresser and sat down again.

In shock, James West started shaking and felt tears roll down his cheeks. His voice cracked. "Oh God! I killed Artie… Oh God! No, noooo!" Then he cried openly, devastated.

Placing a soothing hand on Jim's shoulder, Jeremy said, "You didn't kill him, Jim. That's impossible. You couldn't harm a hair of his head. He's like your own brother – well he is actually, as you two are blood-brothers." He took the pitcher sat on the bedside table and poured water into a glass. "Tell me what happened," and he held out the glass filled with water. "Small sips, Jim."

But Jim refused, his stomach churning. He gritted his teeth and said, "No, I wouldn't be able to hold it…" He closed his eyes and new tears wet his pale cheeks. "Long story short, Dr. Carlotta Rodriguez drugged Artie and me with an airborne love potion and I… and we dueled to decide which of us would have her love. I was the fastest, of course, but Artemus fired and he hit me… I killed him. His shirt was red with blood… I collapsed to the ground and…" He buried his face in his trembling hands. "I killed Artie…"

Placing the glass of water on the bedside table, Jeremy said, "I think not. Artemus will only be declared dead when we find his body, for now, for me, he's still alive." He placed a calming hand on Jim's shoulder. "You always told me if Artie died you would know it immediately, deep in your heart… well? Anything?"

Lowering his hands, Jim sniffed and said, "I… I don't know…I shot him, and there was so much blood, Jeremy. He can't be alive."

Smiling reassuringly Jeremy sat on the edge of the bed. "We're not talking about an ordinary man, but about Artemus Gordon, whose middle names are _lots of cat's lives_ and _invincible_."

Feeling a bit better Jim nodded. 'Pull yourself together, Jim,' he thought. "You're right… I can't feel anything… anything, so he's not dead." He frowned. "But what happened to him?"

Pike shook his head. "I don't know, but I'm going back to New York to collect information. You stay here and wait for me. You need to get some rest. It should take me a couple of days."

Closing his eyes, exhausted, hurting, Jim nodded and just said, 'Okay." And then he sank into a deep sleep.

WWW

 _Port of New York at the same time_

 _Loveless hideout_

Dr. Loveless looked down at the unconscious man lying on the operating table. He was grinning. "He's going to be alright. I saved his life," he said proudly. He chuckled. "It's a first. I usually want to kill him – and that hasn't changed, I will kill him, but my way, not with a bullet. It's is all too common, unworthy of me." He touched his patient's throat and took his pulse. " It was a very good idea of mine to get you to follow Dr. Rodriguez, Brickley, so that you could capture Mr. West and Mr. Gordon, and bring them here… so that I could have my revenge." He glanced at his massive henchman standing at his side.

Brickley nodded. "But I only managed to bring you Mr Gordon, Doctor. I'm sorry. Mr West was already heading to Fairfield."

But he didn't tell Loveless he had let Jim go.

Loveless nodded. "I have sent Simmons to Fairfield, to deliver a 'message' to Mr. West who is probably in the local doctor's hands. Mr. West will be here by tomorrow."

The hooded doctor rolled his wheelchair toward the operating table and glanced at Artemus Gordon with pure hate. "You… should… have… let… him… die!"

Loveless shook his head. "Oh no! I have plans for Mr. Gordon and for his partner, because Mr. West will be here soon. I sent him an invitation."

Pointing at Artie, the other man said, "They… ruined… our… plan… to… create… a… brain."

The diminutive man nodded, "The project is just postponed, Doctor. It's not abandoned. We'll make that brain, a perfect brain which will allow us to continue to live after our poor bodies are attacked by the inevitable old age, a brain that we'll transplant into the head of a human- like-machine… I have yet to create, but I have the design in my mind. As for the mind-transfer machine, I have already built it…"

The black-cladded man added, "Correction, _we_ … built… it, …with… my… indispensable… help."

Loveless nodded. "Of course. I was going to say that, Doctor." He smiled and looked down again at the prone form of Artemus Gordon. "And soon I will have two subjects to test it…" He rubbed his hands in glee. "I'm looking forward to the experience…"

The man in the wheelchair nodded. "I… have… to… go… back… to… Washington, …I… need… to… see… my… physician… for… a… complete… medical… examination… and… so… he… can… change… my… bandages.. and… to… give…me… new… painkillers."

Loveless smiled. "I'll tell you everything when you get back."

WWW

 _The next morning_

Bridget Monroe frowned when she discovered James West standing beside the window, watching goings-on out in the street. "You should not be on your feet, Mr. West, go back to bed, now."

Looking at the young blond woman moving toward him, Jim shook his head, "I'm fine," he lied. His whole body was throbbing, and every time he shifted, he could feel the sharp ache of his right side. "It's not the first time a bullet hit me… besides, it wasn't that serious." Now that, was the truth, he mused.

She sighed. "Said the man who almost bled to death." She handed him the package she held. "A man brought you this."

Intrigued, Jim placed the package on the table, rapidly removed the brown paper and discovered a cardboard box.

He lifted the lid and… gasped in surprise. "Artie!"

He took the gun, monogrammed AG in golden letters on the butt and then the note attached to it with a cord. He opened it and read, "Port of New York, warehouse 6, come alone. No tricks or Artemus Gordon will die." He grinned. "Will die… then he's still alive!"

He exhaled a long sigh of relief – but it didn't suppress the gut-wrenching guilt that oppressed him. He had had wanted to kill in cold blood, the man he considered his own brother!

He placed a hand on Bridget's arm. "I need to go back to New York as soon as possible, to help my partner, but I can't ride in my state…"

The young woman sighed. "You should be in bed… alright. The stagecoach is out of the question, you'll be cramped inside and your sutures could come undone. I know! I'm going to take you there myself in the buggy…" She saw the agent shake his head. She pouted. "Why?"

Smiling soothingly Jim kissed Bridget's cheek, "Because it's going to be dangerous and I want you to be safe here. Another solution?"

She nodded, blushing. "Yes, Sam the black-smith and his buckboard. I'm going to ask him to come here as soon as possible."

WWW

 _Mid-afternoon_

Pressing one hand to his bandaged – aching, burning – right side, Jim entered warehouse 6, his other hand resting on the butt of his gun.

He felt someone moving at his back and turned around, discovering a man built like Voltaire, but red-haired, a familiar face. Brickley.

Brickley was pointing a gun at him. "Give me your gun, West."

He complied and watched the brute slide his Colt into his belt. "Lead me to Dr. Loveless," was all he said.

Brickley shook his head. "Not yet, give me your other gun, the one you hide in your right sleeve. Dr. Loveless told me about it." He cocked the hammer of his revolver. "No tricks!"

Pointing his arm toward the floor, Jim activated the mechanism and a Derringer suddenly appeared as if by magic in his hand. He held the small gun out to the henchman." Satisfied?"

Brickley smiled like a shark. "Very." He gestured toward a back door. "Move, Dr. Loveless is expecting you and he's not a patient man."

WWW

 _Later, in the operating room_

Loveless was listening Artemus's heart with a stethoscope when Jim West entered the room, escorted by Brickley and Simmons and three other armed men.

He placed the medical instrument in the pocket of his white lab coat and smiled. "Ah! Mr. West, it is always a pleasure to see you again."

Moving forward, Jim replied, "The pleasure is all yours, Doctor." He made a bee line toward his partner, lying in his underwear, unconscious on a rolling operating table. White bandages were wrapped around Artemus's midriff. "How is he?" he asked, anxious.

Artemus looked terrible, he noticed, disheveled and unshaven, pale and drawn and his eyes were sunken amid dark circles.

Loveless frowned, upset. "How ungrateful! You could thank me first! I'm the one who saved his life! He was dying when Brickley brought him to me."

Looking down at the diminutive man Jim said, reluctantly, "I'm sorry. Thank you."

Loveless nodded. "It was close but as he is-was in good shape, he made it through the surgery. Fortunately for him, I'm a very talented surgeon and managed to fix everything. I retrieved the bullet - and he was very lucky it didn't do too much damage - and I gave him a transfusion from man to man with a new device of my invention. Mr. Gordon is safe. For now."

Feeling guilt squeeze his throat and pierce his heart, Jim hesitated before taking Artie's limp hand in his, brushing his thumb slowly back and forth in his close-to-a-brother's palm. He had an inner smile. They were actually blood-brother since their adventures in the bayous. "I'm so sorry," he let out, a hand stroking Artie's curly hair, while paling with guilt and shame. "I tried to kill you Artie…" He dragged a tired hand down his face and ran his hand over Artiemus's head again, unconsciously needing to touch him to be sure he was still there, still breathing, still alive, "I thought I'd lost you…"

Miguelito Loveless joined Jim. He smiled and said, "Yes you tried to kill him and you would have lost him if I hadn't saved his life. That love potion makes men capable of anything…The proof is that you wanted to kill Artemus Gordon to be the only one to be with Carlotta Rodriguez. Brickley who watched the duel told me everything."

Jim nodded. "How did you know where to find me?"

Loveless pointed at Brickley, and responded, "Brickley found Mr. Gordon lying in a pool of his own blood, in the field where you shot him. He didn't find you there, because you were already heading to Fairfield, to see the local doctor. I sent Simmons there to deliver the 'message' addressed to you."

Jim nodded. "I understand."

The little man glanced at his patient, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Ah! I would have liked to attend that duel but I was busy calibrating my brand new machine." He paused, and chuckled. "But I will be in Washington, when Dr. Rodriguez puts her plan into action. I wouldn't miss that for anything in the world. She left for the Capital a couple of hours ago…"

Frowning in worry, Jim said, "I can guess what her plan is… She's going to use her airborne love potion in a public place to create a big brawl, causing a lot of people to be injured, or even die …"

Loveless beamed. "Oh yes! And this country will sink into utter chaos – after she uses her love potion among the Senators and the Representatives…"

Feeling very, very worried now, Jim said, "She has plans to go to Congress… and use her love potion there? Oh God!"

Loveless chuckled. "It's brilliant, isn't it? Then, she will go to the White House. When she asks to see the President, they shall hurry to obey her and show her into his presence. Then, once with Grant, she'll ask the President to kill himself in order to please her, and he'll comply without any hesitation. I will seize the opportunity to take over Washington with a small army which awaits my orders somewhere in the woods 20 miles away from the Capital…" He grinned. "And in a few days, people will be calling me King Miguelito the First, or Emperor Miguelito the First, I'm still hesitating between the two – what do you think?"

Jim smiled. "I prefer _inmate_ Loveless."

Loveless scowled. "Very funny." Seeing that the agent was looking around him, trying to find a way to escape, he added, "It's useless, Mr. West. My men here are gunslingers and they are ready to shoot you at the slightest suspicious gesture on your part. You won't be going anywhere." He headed toward the opposite part of the vast underground room and pulling on a rope, opened a big curtain, revealing a big machine covering the entire wall. "This is my latest invention! Isn't it beautiful?"

His face neutral, Jim commented, "Swell."

Loveless scowled. "I need test subjects to see if it works properly – and Mr. Gordon and you are volunteers to help me calibrate it." He smiled like a crocodile. "And I will get rid of you both, at the same time. I didn't know how, until I had that great idea… What a delightful revenge." He snapped his fingers. "Brickley, bring Mr. Gordon here, he goes first."

Brickley complied, rolling the operating table on which Artemus, still unconscious was lying, and halted it next to the machine.

Jim followed closely.

Loveless slapped Artie's face, twice, and the older agent opened his eyes with great effort. "Wake up, Mr. Gordon, you're going to have the privilege of being the first to test my new machine."

Blinking dazedly Artie saw Loveless standing over him, "No, not you…"

Loveless chuckled. "Yes, me."

Artie tried to move but a sharp pain from his stomach region informed him that it was a very bad idea. "Aaaaah!"

Immediately Jim leaned toward his best friend, taking his hand in his. It was damp and burning with fever. With the back of his hand he touched his sweat-drenched hair plastered to his forehead. "I'm here Artie, you're safe. Everything is going to be okay."

Artie smiled and breathed, "J'm…" Then he noticed the machine, cringed and whispered. "Oh… no. Not the machine…"

Loveless wagged a finger. "Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! Your mother should have taught you not to lie, Mr. West. Move away from him, now."

But Jim refused.

Brickley pushed Jim backward, hard.

Simmons pointed his gun close to the agent's head. "Don't move!"

Loveless placed two electrodes on Artie's forehead, connecting him to the machine, and started to press different colored buttons. "Almost ready…" he said, very excited at testing his machine.

Knowing from experience that Loveless plus machine equaled suffering and then very bad things, Artemus tried to remove the electrodes but his hand stop mid-course and dropped limply.

He tried to move, in an attempt to pull himself into a sitting position, but his strength had abandoned him. "No," he breathed.

He groaned feeling an intense burning pain in his midriff. His vision started to gray at the corners before his eyes rolled back, and the world went black.

Loveless lowered a lever and the machine started humming. The diminutive man pressed a big red button and three smaller buttons started flashing. "It's working," he said. Turning toward Jim he explained, "My latest invention is a Mind-transference machine. The three flashing lights here, indicate that Mr. Gordon's brilliant mind is being transferred into a special component where it will be stored." He moved beside Artemus and rubbed his hands in glee as he observed the special agent's vacant eyes. "Good!" He moved back toward the machine and then added, "Then, I will re-transfer his mind into him. Isn't it prodigious?"

Pale, Jim shook his head. "No, it's not. What happens if it doesn't work?"

Miguelito Loveless nodded. "That's simple. Everything will be lost, the personality, the knowledge, the experience, … The body will be like an empty shell. It will continue to operate as long as we take care of it, and if not, it will die." Suddenly the three buttons stopped flashing. He beamed. "Transfer's complete!" He touched another button, flashing blue. "Mr. Gordon's mind is in the machine…and before you ask, I don't know if he is aware of it." He lowered another lever and the three buttons started flashing again. "I'm transferring his mind back now…"

Seeing the three lights stop flashing, he moved back toward Artemus who was blinking, looking dazed. "Mr. Gordon, tell me, what did you feel?"

Closing his watery eyes, exhausted, very pale, Artie murmured, "Terrible. Everything was black… I felt lost, I was trapped, I was oppressed… it was a horrible sensation. I felt so lonely…" He gulped. "That was horrifying. Don't do that again!"

He let out a strangled sob, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

Loveless smiled broadly. "You felt like this because your mind was stored into what I call a 'mind-hold-device', but imagine being transferred into another brain, a powerful, virgin, brain…"

Jim nodded. "That's why you were making that brain, to transfer your mind into it…"

Loveless applauded. "Very good, Mr. West. Yes, it is my intention to do that before my body becomes old and decrepit. I can't stand the idea of getting old and losing all my faculties. And, as I want to be immortal, I will first, place a brain into a human-like machine – I haven't built it, yet, but I will soon. It will be taller, stronger than average human beings, and it won't age! – I won't age."

Jim nodded. "Good for you. And I suppose that your associate, the man in the wheelchair will have one human-like machine too?"

Loveless nodded. "Of course, that's why he helped me build that machine. Poor man, trapped in that wheelchair, suffering like hell… Then, I will need a man like him to be at my side, very intelligent, unscrupulous, ready for anything to get his own way… He has already accepted the role of my First minister."

Concerned, Jim looked at Artemus who was drifting in and out of consciousness. "What about your other associate, Dr. Rodriguez? What is she gaining from your plan?"

Loveless followed Jim's gaze. "She'll be at my side too, of course. She's interested in being immortal, too, meaning she'll be beautiful, forever. She has not decided yet, what role she'd like to have…" Looking at Brickley, he added, "It's time for me to take revenge for all you have done to harm me… Brickley, bring me the kitten." Then he turned toward Jim and continued, "I had planned to kill you slowly, with another of my inventions, but I 'm going to use that machine to get rid of both of you once and for all… I find it more amusing." He paused to shake Artie's arm, roughly. "Stay awake, Mr. Gordon, I'm not finished with you."

Brickley came back shortly after, cradling a kitten which was just a few weeks old against his chest.

Artie smiled at the fluffiest, tiniest baby-cat he'd ever seen. It was completely black. Its face was round and it had clear bright blue eyes.

Jim frowned, puzzled. A kitten?

Artemus blinked with weariness as his sight kept fading in and out of focus. "Hey k'ty… y're ado-ado-rable," he slurred. The kitten let out the tiniest of mews. "Aww…"

The kitten looked at Artemus at the sound of his voice.

"Mew!"

Loveless took the tiny cat and placed it on top of a stool, saying. "Don't move, kitty."

The kitten yawned and curled into a ball.

The little man glanced at Artemus and had a wicked smile. "I heard that you have a cat, Mr. Gordon. How about becoming one?"

Blinking dazedly, his brain shutting down in exhaustion and fever, Artie let out, "Wha? Me… cat?"

Although Artemus didn't react, Jim did. His blood ran cold. "That's your plan! Putting Artie's mind in a kitten's brain!"

Loveless nodded. "Exactly! Brilliant isn't it?"

Appalled Jim took a step forward. "I won't let you do that," he said.

Simmons placed the mouth of his gun against the agent's back and growled. "Don't move, I said! Or I shoot. The Doctor needs your head, he doesn't care if I put a bullet in your back… as long as you stray alive long enough for what he has planned for you… "

Miguelito Loveless chuckled. "No more human Artemus Gordon, the formidable special agent of the Secret Service, but Artemus the tiny, vulnerable kitten. As for you, Mr. West, I chose a puppy dog. I'm sure you're a dog-lover."

Calming, Jim looked down at the diminutive man, and specified, "Actually, Artie's a cat-lover. I have no preference. I love both cats and dogs the same."… And he suddenly hit Simmons face, hard, with a fist like iron.

The henchman cried out as blood spilled from his broken nose and he took a step forward, crying, trying to repress nausea.

Jim hit Brickley's face, too, with all he had, pushed him to one side and ran toward the machine, ready to break it.

But the brute was faster.

Brickley growled like an angry bear, grabbed Jim by his neck and threw him to the ground, before lowering a massive fist to his opponent's head.

Loveless ordered, "No! Don't hurt him. I want him to see his best friend becoming a kitten…" and he watched his henchman pull Jim to his feet. He cackled, "You could be together again, but you won't be a menace to me anymore." He glanced at Simmons who was moaning in pain. "Go to the galley and put some ice on your broken nose."

Simmons glared at Jim and headed toward the door.

Loveless initiated the transfer, again. Once Artemus's mind was stored in the mind-hold-device, he placed two electrodes on the kitten's head and the mini cat let out a disgruntled meow. He lowered a lever, pressed on the big red button and said, "Mr. Gordon's mind will be a little bit cramped in that tiny head… as for the cat's mind, well, there are three possibilities, one, they'll get along together, peacefully, or two, the human's mind will push the cat's mind to one side. And the third possibility, they will combine to make one." Then he chuckled. The three buttons stopped flashing a few seconds later. "The transfer is complete." He took the kitten in his hands and asked, "Are you in there, Mr. Gordon?"

Ears flattened against its head the kitten hissed and snarled in response, thrashing its tail, puffing up to twice its size.

Miguelito Loveless smirked. "Oooh, I'm sooo terrified…what are you going to do? Claw me to death? You tiny harmless, creature!"

Kitten-Artie let out an almost feral growl and flicking out its tiny needle-like claws, it swatted at Loveless and scratched the little man's nose.

Loveless yelped, his nose bleeding, and dropped the mini-cat to the floor.

Using its claws again, the kitten climbed Jim's pants and moved on top of the agent's right shoulder and snuggled there, against Jim's neck, feeling safe.

Smiling Jim said, "I think you have your answer, Loveless." He stroked the kitten under its pointy shin and the ball of fluff purred. "Good job, buddy!"

Miguelito Loveless groaned wiping the blood off his scratched nose with his handkerchief. "Brickley, put that furry thing in a bag and then throw it in the River!"

Jim took a step back. "Never!"

The kitten climbed on Jim's head and growled again menacingly, baring its teeth, back arched. It spat at Brickley, fur rising again, clawing the air.

Jim smiled. "Brave kitty-Artie!"

Suddenly a series of gunshots resounded and the door was broken down by several armed policemen. Immediately the gunslingers opened fire.

Loveless immediately ran toward the back door, Brickley in tow.

Jim delicately took the kitten off his head – it was small enough to be held in his palm - unbuttoned the top of his golden waistcoat and slid the tiny feline against his chest.

He ran after the two men.

But Brickley suddenly pivoted and charged on Jim like a raging bull. He easily pushed the agent into the vast machine-room, giving time for Loveless to escape.

The brute pinned Jim against a wall like a mere fly for a few seconds; and, stepping over dead bodies (policemen and gunslingers) he hurled himself into a group of federal agents who had just entered the vast room, Jeremy Pike amongst them.

Pike barely avoided being crushed against the wall beside the door and ran toward Jim, sitting on the floor beside a huge wall-sized machine.

Brickley was finally forced to the floor by six men and manacled - twice. Then one of the agents used the butt of his gun to knock him out.

Jeremy spotted a small black kitten all fluffed up, with blue eyes in his friend's arms. "Hey there, kitty. Are you okay Jim?"

Looking at Jeremy, Jim nodded. "Yes, I am, but not Artie…" He settled the mini-cat on top of his knee and kissed the kitten's head. "He's a kitten now… Loveless used that machine behind me to transfer Artie's mind into the kitten's brain." Curious he asked, "But a male or a female?" He quickly checked the kitten's gender – making kitty-Artie meow indignantly, and added, "He's a male. Say hello to Jeremy, Artie."

The kitten lifted a paw.

"Mew!"

Jeremy Pike opened his eyes wide in total surprise, blinked twice, mouth wide open, then he raised his eyebrows in complete disbelief. "Wha-what?"

Stroking the mini-feline's black fluffy fur Jim said, "Artemus body, over there, lying on the operating table is now an empty shell."

The agent was still stunned. "Dear God…" He petted the kitten's black head, amazed and smiled when the kitten pushed back against his hand. He scratched it behind its ears and added, "And Loveless is gone. He has escaped, again."

Jim nodded. "You have to find him, it's vital. Loveless is the only one who can use that machine and put Artie's mind back in his brain. I want men here to protect the machine… and as the man in the wheelchair wasn't here, he could come back, not knowing what happened. If he does I want him arrested."

Pike nodded petting the kitten's head. "I will find him, Jim. Speaking about finding… I found Lockpick in the stable. He's okay."

Standing, Jim said, "I have to go to Washington to stop Carlotta Rodriguez. She has plans to bring chaos to Congress and then to the White House using her love potion… People will kill each other to be the one to have her." He frowned, intrigued. "By the way, how did you know where Loveless's hideout was?"

Pike fingered the kitten's tiny front paws and the kitten mewled, pleased. "As I didn't find anything in New York, I headed back to Fairfield. I asked people if anyone had seen you, and I met Dr. Monroe's daughter. She told me that you had left town to go to a rendezvous at warehouse 6 in the port of New York, and that Artemus Gordon was alive and in grave danger…"

Jim nodded. "And you came here with policemen and agents. Good job, Jeremy! Now, let's take Artemus to the New York hospital. He needs special care."

Pike nodded. "Okay, then I will send a telegram to Colonel Richmond to tell him what happened – except the part about Artie now being a kitten. I leave you the pleasure of telling him in person…"

Jim sighed.

WWW

 _Later, in the New York hospital_

Dr. Colson pocketed his stethoscope, stood and looked at the man who was lying on his back on the bed, mouth opened, and who was completely still.

Artemus Gordon's eyes were closed and his body completely lax.

He joined the two Secret Service agents waiting next to the door. "He's stable," he said and added," He will need round-the-clock care – it's like he's in a coma. Fortunately, I took care of two comatose patients before. I know the medical procedures to keep him alive."

His face drawn, Jim took his eyes off of Artie – who was ghostly pale and looked dead and he shuddered. He nodded. "How long can he stay like this?"

Richard Colson rubbed his chin. "It depends on the patient's health, Mr. West, and your friend has been seriously injured and he's weak. In his case, I would say a couple of weeks…" He frowned, curious. "What happened to him?"

Jim replied, "I can't tell you, I'm sorry, it's classified." He sighed. "I have every confidence in you taking good care of him, doctor." He glanced at Jeremy standing at his side. "I have to go to Washington, but Mr. Pike will stay here, if you need anything."

Dr. Colson nodded. "Don't worry, he's in good hands. I will do my best, and my nurses too, to take care of your friend the best we can." He smiled reassuringly, and then left the white-painted room.

Poking its head out of Jim's blue waistcoat, the fluffy kitten peered around. He let out a worried mewl and Jim let him go and it landed on Artemus's chest, slowly moving up and down with each breath.

Immediately the mini-black cat padded toward Artemus's face on wobbly feet and sat on its hind legs on the comatose-like human's collarbone.

The kitten pawed Artemus's pale lips. He looked up at Jim then, blue eyes worried.

"Mew?"

Sighing, Jim stroked the feline's fluffy back. "Don't worry, Artie. Doctor Colson will take good care of your body, and Jeremy here will find Loveless. I have placed two local agents in the corridor for your protection, in case Loveless and his accomplices try to kill you – I mean your body. You're going to stay here with Jeremy, while I'll be on my way to Washington to stop Carlota Rodriguez."

The baby cat clawed Jim's sleeve, hanging to it, meowing in protest. It stared up at him with demanding bright blue eyes.

"Mew! Mew!" The kitten let out, pleadingly.

Pulling the tiny furball into his arms, Jim said, "No, you can't come with me. You're a cat now Artie – a kitten! - you can't help me. You have to stay with Jeremy, he's going to take good care of you. As soon as he he finds Loveless, the sooner your mind will return to your brain."

The kitten let out a disgruntled mewl.

Cupping the tiny baby cat in one hand, bringing it up to his face, at eye level, Jim shook his head, waving a finger firmly and said, "I said No." The kitten tried to squirm out of his grasp. "What did I say? No!"

"Mrreeoww."

WWW

 _Later, in the Wanderer_

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, James West stood, yawned, dropped the newspaper he was reading on the couch and spotted Marmalade sitting on her hind legs in front of the door, slowly balancing her tail.

"Meow!"

Suddenly the telegraph clicked to life.

Jim hit the telegraph key to accept reception of the message. A few seconds later, the telegraph key came alive again.

Looking down at Artemus's white and orange cat, waving its tail nervously now, and meowing, Jim translated the Morse code, "Following your last message. Access to Congress is forbidden. Access to the White House is forbidden. Men were replaced by women of the Secret Service to guard them. Loveless's army captured and secured by the cavalry. Waiting for your arrival to arrest Dr. Rodriguez. Signed, Colonel Richmond." He smiled broadly. "Good! Carlota's love potion will not work on women." He acknowledged the message and closed the box of faux books hiding the key.

"Mrrrreow!"

He sighed. "No, you can't go out, Marmie. The train is on its way. It's dangerous. Besides, it's raining a lot outside and you don't like water."

Marmie meowed and started to scratch the door, insisting.

Sighing, Jim surrendered and opened it. "Okay, maybe you just need to breathe some fresh air on the rear platform… but I warn you, you're going to get all wet!"

Marmalade rushed outside, onto the rear platform and then came back inside a few seconds later, grabbing a black kitten with blue eyes by the scruff of its neck.

It was soaked to the skin and trembling with cold.

She gently deposited the mini cat at Jim's feet, snorted, shaking the raindrops of her coat, and gave the kitten a series of quick maternal licks, smoothing its drenched shaggy hair.

Frowning, upset, Jim reached down and picked the kitten up and cupped it in both hands. He held the mini-feline to eye level. "Artie! you bad kitten!"

The kitten wiggled its tiny paws in the air and blinked at Jim innocently, waving its tiny tail, its ears twitching slightly.

The tiny cat reached out a paw to bat at Jim's thumbs and let out the tiniest of mews.

Still frowning, upset, Jim said, "I know what you're trying to do. Don't try to soften me Artie! It won't work. You disobeyed me! I told you to stay with Jeremy in New York."

The kitten mewled 'Who me?'

The little guy was just Adorable, Jim couldn't help but think.

Succumbing to the black fur-ball cuteness, softening, he stroked the kitten's belly making little cooing noises, then underneath its chin and smiled as the fluff-ball started to purr loudly. "How did you manage to climb onto the platform? You're so small." He touched the mini-cat's nose with his. "Hmm… some people probably heard you mewl, thinking that you were living here and put you there…" He furrowed his brow again, upset once more. "You could have fallen from the platform and died!... It was totally reckless!" He finally noticed that the small cat was trembling and that his fur, sticking out every which way, was drenched. The kitten let out a pitiful sound and a tiny sneeze. "Ooh, you're cold!"

New sneeze.

Immediately, Jim settled the small bundle of fur on the couch, delicately, and gently wrapped the tiny animal in the thick coverlet. "Here, you'll feel warm in a minute, Artie;" he said as he started drying the kitten off. Then, once the mini-feline was all fluffy again, and not shivering anymore and kneading his sleeves with its front paws playfully, he added, "I'm going to bring you a saucer of milk – warm milk, no, tepid milk. Don't move little guy, I'll be right back!" Then he headed toward the galley at top speed.

New sneeze.

Marmalade jumped on the couch and rolled in a ball around the kitten to provide him warmth before starting to lick the black fur clean, grooming it in a comforting way.

Immediately a deep purr rumbled out of the kitten and it rubbed its head against Marmalade's neck affectionately as it kneaded the golden coverlet, flexing its paws almost in time with its purring.

Holding a saucer of milk Jim came back shortly after to the parlor suite and beamed seeing the kitten snuggled against Marmalade's white belly, on its back, paws in the air, purring.

He settled the saucer of milk on the table, sat on the edge of the couch and stroked the white and orange cat between its ears, eliciting loud purrs. "You did a good job Marmie! You heard him on the platform, right? That's why you wanted to go out? You saved his life, you know. He would have been frozen to death without you, by now. Brave Marmalade."

Marmie curled tighter around the kitten and started to lick the kitten's head, between his ears with affection and purred in time with kitty-Artie.

Smiling, Jim petted the kitten's belly again. "I'm wondering if you know that that kitten is actually your owner Marmie, now with four tiny paws, pointy ears and a tail." He smiled watching the mini-cat snuggle closer to Marmie, to her warmth. "I'm going to give you a name, I can't call you kitty-Artie… even if your mind is in the kitten's head, it's way too strange. What about Fluffy?" The kitten hissed in displeasure. Jim nodded. "Okay, you don't like it. What about Fur-ball?" There was a new disapproving hiss. "Okay, you don't like that either. Oh! I know, I've got one, what about AG, for Artemus Gordon? AG then?"

AG flicked his tail happily.

"Mreow," he let out, pleased.

Marmalade meowed her approval too.

Tbc.


	5. Act Four

**THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY LOVE POTION**

 **By Andamogirl**

WWW

 **ACT FOUR**

 _The next morning,_

 _Washington D.C._

Opening his eyes, Jim immediately felt a warm ball of fur, purring, nuzzling lovingly against his neck and a smile formed on his lips. "Hello buddy," he said.

"Purrrrrrrrrrrrr."

He fingered the little face tucked into his throat, whiskers tickling his Adam's apple. "Good morning Artie, I mean good morning AG." He chuckled when the kitten started licking his cheek with its raspy tongue, saying hello. He picked the kitten up and held it in front of his face. He smiled again fondly watching the impossibly fluffy mini-feline yawn, flex its paws, claws extending and retracting, its so minuscule tongue poking out of its mouth, between minuscule pointy teeth. "Aww… aren't you the cutest thing kitten-Artie, I mean AG… I was hard with you last night, I'm sorry. But I was deeply worried about you. What you did was incredibly dangerous, you could have been killed, and I don't want to lose you, you know that…"

"Meww!"

Jim settled the mini-cat on his chest and AG stretched again, then he sat on his hinds legs, purring. "How did you get here, huh? Let me guess, Marmalade brought you onto my bed last night thinking you needed comfort, that's a smart cat!" He touched the small cat's black nose playfully and the kitten head-butted his hand in response and purred, its tail swishing back and forth.

"Mewww!"

Jim pulled himself into a sitting position, placing the pillow in his back. "Jeremy sent me a telegram last night, telling me that he had lost you. Poor man, he was totally panicked and devastated! He thought that you were dead! I sent him a telegram back to reassure him… By the way, your body is fine. Jeremy visits 'you' twice a day. Dr. Colson is taking good care of you – I mean he takes good care of your body." AG flopped on his back and he gently petted the soft black fur with two fingers, making the kitten purr loudly and his eyes drift shut in happiness. He smiled and added, "I always thought that you were a cat in another life ... and somehow you had kept its nine lives."

"Mewwww!"

AG was looking up at him again with the most demanding look and mewling for the third time. But this time Jim noticed it.

Jim nodded. "You're hungry, right? You're impossible when you are hungry, man or cat! Give me some time to find something for you…"

Marmalade suddenly padded inside the room, sneaking through the open door. She jumped on Jim's lap and licked the kitten's head before taking it by the scruff of its neck to carry it out of the bed.

Jim smiled. "Mama Marmalade heard you buddy, and I bet she's going to take you to her place, where Artie feeds her… where you feed her."

Marmie headed toward the lab, to her place, where Artemus spent most of his time and her too. It would be AG's place too from now on.

Jim left his bed and stretched. He buttoned up his flannel pajamas… remembering that a week ago the Wanderer had been turned into a rolling oven.

He lifted the blind up and looked through the window, sighing. Now it was cold and damp outside, and the gray clouds announced a coming rain.

He grabbed his bathrobe, folded on a chair and headed toward the door. Once in the narrow walkway, he padded barefoot toward the galley.

First thing first, feed the hungry felines. He'd have breakfast after, he thought.

WWW

Marmie transported the kitten to her basket settled in Artemus's lab, under his work table and gently nestled it inside, in the folds of the small soft blanket.

But AG was hungry and nothing else mattered. He left the basket, stumbling on his tiny legs. Sitting in front of Marmalade he mewled loudly.

Marmie licked the kitten's chin twice to soothe him.

But it didn't work.

"Meeeeeewwww!"

Fortunately, Jim, still dressed in his navy pajamas, entered the place shortly after. He was holding a plate with chicken leftovers on it, that he had crumbled in small pieces so that the kitten could eat them. "You are probably both hungry," he said, especially you Kitty-Artie…" The kitten let out a tiny mew of protest. "Sorry, I mean _AG_ ," he said, watching the kitten sitting next to his feet, paws against his leg. "Chicken for you both, buddies. Enjoy your food."

He settled the plate under the work table and both Marmie and AG started eating voraciously, their tails waving in contentment.

WWW

 _Later, in the parlor suite_

Utterly astounded, Colonel Richmond blinked. "What?" He looked down at the kitten crouched sphinx style on the couch, staring at him with its bright blue eyes. "You mean… that this kitten is Artemus?"

Pouring a cup of coffee, Jim shook his head. "Well, no, Sir, not exactly. Loveless has used his new machine to transfer Artie's mind into the kitten's brain… But Artemus's body is in New York, lying on a hospital bed. He's fine, for the time being." He placed his hand on the report sitting beside the coffee pot, on the table. "It's a long story. Everything is in the report, Sir."

Richmond sat on the edge of the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "I'm wondering why am I still surprised that something extraordinary like this can happen to you… I shouldn't be. Artemus was once turned into a woman, for example."

Purring, the kitten started rubbing itself against Richmond's thigh.

"Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

The head of the Secret Service patted AG gently and he arched into his hand. "Is Artemus conscious of being a kitten?"

Offering the cup of coffee to his CO Jim nodded, and sat on the couch too. "Oh it's Artie alright, Sir… but with a cat's behavior." As an example, he removed his tie and shook it over the kitten – and AG immediately pawed it, trying to catch it. "He's not mentally affected by his new… body. Otherwise he would remain prostrated in a corner and would not eat, would not play... Knowing Artie's scientific mind, he's taking it as a formidable and unique experience, living it thoroughly – like he did after he was turned into a woman. " He scooped the kitten and placed it on his lap. "I call him AG, for Artemus Gordon and I hope Jeremy will find Loveless soon. He's the only one who can use his machine to put Artie's mind back in his head."

AG lifted one tiny paw to lick its pads, then, when it was clean enough, he made his way over Jim to perch himself on his shoulder.

"Mew!" He let out, rubbing his head on the agent's neck, purring.

Jim smiled. "I'm his, he owns me," he said as the kitten started nipping at his ear playfully.

Richmond nodded and patted the kitten's furry head. "I hope Jeremy Pike finds Loveless too. As for you, you have another assignment, find Carlotta Rodriguez."

Jim picked the tiny ball of black fur up and placed it on his lap. AG shifted so he was sprawled out on his back – kicking the black pads of his tiny fluffy paws, in the air, belly exposed. It was its way to ask 'rub my belly?' and Jim complied, rubbing the kitten's soft, fluffy belly with one finger, and he couldn't help cooing, 'Awww… he's so fluffy..."

He noticed Colonel Richmond lift his eyebrows in surprise, then caught him pursing his lips together, obviously trying to hold back a fit of laughter. A red flush began spreading over Jim's cheeks, but he didn't stop petting the kitten.

"And I thought you were a dog lover…" the Colonel said.

Jim manly cleared his throat. "I will find Dr. Rodriguez, Sir." AG began kneading at Jim's leg, eyes closed in bliss. "It's not going to be easy. She probably saw the armed women guarding Congress and the White House, not letting anyone enter and she knows that we know her plan by now… But I'm sure she'll find a new target. Is there something scheduled today or in the near future in Washington with lots of people, important people?"

AG began playing with his tail.

Richmond frowned. "Not in Washington but in Boston, the President will be there tonight to meet a dozen Governors, at the Governor's house…it was in the newspapers." He paled. "Oh God! The President! He's in danger!"

Moving on its legs, the kitten climbed on the Colonel's arm and sniffed at his cup of coffee, sticking its tiny pink tongue out.

Richmond smiled. "He's adorable."

Frowning, Jim said, "Cats don't drink coffee," and he scooped up the kitten, and AG meowed in protest, digging his claws into Jim's skin reflexively. "Ow!" He placed the kitten on the carpeted floor and looked at Marmalade crouched on the nearby armchair, staring at the mini-cat she had adopted, "Take care of him."

Marmie moved with feline grace to the floor and padded toward AG – which darted under the table to flee, where the adult cat easily intercepted him.

Marmalade caught AG by the scruff of his neck earning an indignant squeak from him and brought the baby cat to the other basket Artemus had settled under the work table.

She started grooming AG – while keeping him immobile between her front paws.

Richmond was very surprised. "I thought cats didn't obey any commands."

Shaking his head, watching Marmie put AG in her basket; Jim replied, "Marmalade is not an ordinary cat, Colonel, she's very intelligent. She's Artie's cat. He trained her to obey him – and me."

Richmond nodded. "And Artemus is now a cat – or to be precise a kitten." He stood, took his hat from the work table and said, "Go to Boston, stop her before she can do anything, and keep me posted."

Standing too, Jim nodded. "Yes, Sir." He opened the door.

Suddenly the two men heard the clattering of the telegraph. Jim hit the telegraph key to accept the reception of the message and a few seconds later, the telegraph key came alive again.

Jim translated the Morse code, "Loveless still at large. Man in the wheelchair, arrested in the lab with two of Loveless's henchmen. Machine intact. Man in the black cloak knows how to use the machine. Waiting for the kitten. Signed, Jeremy Pike."

AG's black ears pricked up in interest.

"Mew?"

Once the transmission was finished, Jim acknowledged the message and closed the box of faux books hiding the key.

Richmond smiled. "That's good news for Artemus. Put that woman behind bars, Jim, as soon as possible; and go back to New York to give your partner his own body back."

Jim watched the Colonel leave the rear platform of the Wanderer. "Will do, with pleasure, Sir," he said." Then he came back inside and closed the door.

He found AG running everywhere in the room at top speed, in zigzags, meowing, upset, trying to escape Marmalade who was pursuing him.

The kitten targeted the sofa and darted there.

But Jim caught the mini-cat in the middle of the golden tassels of the passementerie just before he could completely disappear under the couch.

He chuckled. The kitten was squirming inside his closed hand, all four legs flailing, as he let out a hiss. AG was covered with dust bunnies and even filaments of spider web. "The cleaning is not done correctly here..." Jim commented.

Suddenly the kitten ceased to struggle and yawned hugely, exhausted after running everywhere in the parlor suite, revealing a tiny pink tongue.

Noticing the kitten, exhausted, was closing his eyes, dozing off, Jim leaned down and brought the kitten close to his face, nuzzling AG.

"Purrrrrrrrrrrrrr," AG let out, before yawning again.

Jim kissed the top of his tiny triangular nose, before placing the mini-feline in the basket. "Here… nap time little guy. Mama Marmie is going to take care of you."

Mamalade curled around the kitten and started to lick AG clean.

WWW

 _Later_

Lockpick lowered his head toward the kitten and sniffed the baby cat. Lifting a paw, claws retracted, AG batted the horse's nostrils to say hello.

"Mew!"

Marmalade was there too, in full mama mode. But she wasn't worried. The gelding was very gentle and they often played hide & seek together in the hay.

She hid and he had to find her.

Lockpick huffed and nuzzled AG and the kitten meowed gleefully.

Marmie was more worried to see the kitten do reckless things like… like what AG was doing right now, that is running toward Blackjack and clawing its way up the stallion's left hind leg.

Blackjack glanced at the kitten scaling his hind leg ignoring the little claws that dug into his flesh, but he didn't mind, remembering that Marmalade had done that too when she was little.

He let the kitten scale him.

Once on top of the horse, AG trotted toward the saddle bag, hanging from a peg on the wooden wall. He used his claws to climb onto it, then flattened his little body and slid himself inside… once there, he stopped moving and making any noises, like a hidden stowaway.

Mama Marmie started meowing loudly, tail and ears twitching in worry, calling the kitten.

Holding a breathing mask in his hand, Jim entered the stable car a few seconds later and looked down at Marmalade who was meowing loudly, walking in circles, swishing her tail. She was very agitated. "What's happening, Marmie?"

Marmie suddenly climbed on Blackjack and the horse, surprised, moved back and snorted. Jim took the cat in his arms. "I know why you're nervous. You don't want me to go, right? Shhh… don't worry, everything's going to be okay. I will come back." He lowered Marmalade to the hay covered floor and added, "Go play with AG… he's probably wandering around the car somewhere... The last time I saw him he was lying on Artie's bed, playing with his tail…" and then he open the left one of his two saddle bags and slid the breathing mask inside, oblivious to the kitten's presence.

The kitten played dead. No movement, no sound.

Frowning, Jim caught the white and orange cat halfway up Blackjack, again. "That's enough!"

He brought Marmie to Artemus's sleeping compartment. She was fidgeting in his arms, her ears flattened to her head, meowing in complaint.

She was clawing his jacket, trying to escape from Jim's firm embrace.

Jim dropped the cat to the floor, before closing the door in a flash.

Locked in the room, Marmalade meowed even louder, feeling anxious for AG while scratching the door helplessly.

WWW

 _Boston,_

 _End of the day_

 _Governor's house_

Entering the garden, Jim knew that it was already too late to stop Dr. Carlotta Rodriguez from releasing her airborne love potion, when he saw a group of middle-aged men hitting each other, madly, near the fountain, crying out, "I love her!', "No, I love her!", "She loves me!", "No she's not…"

Carlotta Rodriguez was already there and her love potion - active.

He tied up the reins of his horse to a bush and hurried to pull out the breathing mask from the left bag of his saddle bags – and gasped in surprise to see AG rolled in a ball inside.

The tiny black fur ball popped its head out.

"Mew!"

Frowning, Jim growled, irritated. "AG! What are you doing here?" but before he could do anything the mini-cat had jumped onto his gunbelt and then clawed its way down Jim's pant leg.

Jim put Artemus's artificial lung on his the face and did up the straps to keep it in place and started to breathe the air contained in the reservoir.

He followed the kitten which was running toward the big open front door. AG was tiny but extraordinarily quick, he thought, impressed.

He sighed. He had forgotten that Artie's mind was in the cat's head – and that Artie was his partner – and as his partner, he shared assignments. "But you're a kitten, buddy!" he reminded him.

The kitten and Jim made their way inside the hall, slaloming between people trying to strangle each other, hitting each other with vases, pictures, etc.

No one noticed the kitten.

Feeling anxious that the mini-cat could be hurt by accident, he scooped up AG and slid him inside his blue waistcoat, in a safe place.

The kitten poked its head out, meowing.

Jim pressed on its head forcing AG to stay hidden and said, "Stay hidden there buddy, it's going to be dangerous," and AG who wanted to participate, let out a disgruntled mew.

Shortly after that they entered the living-room and Jim saw at least a dozen injured men lying on the carpeted floor, women kneeling around them, crying or prostrated.

He spotted Carlotta Rodriguez sitting on a chair, beside a big fireplace, framed between her two (smirking) henchwomen, Sam the hulky woman and Erika, the petite one.

Carlotta was beaming – Ulysses S. Grant, President of the United States of America was kneeling at her feet, kissing her hand repeatedly, completely enamored.

Un-holstering his gun, Jim moved toward the women – who were unaware that he was there, as they were focused on Grant - telling Carlotta how much he loved her.

Sam was the first to register Jim's presence and she pulled out a gun from her reticule. Jim didn't hesitate a second and fired. The massive woman, dressed in a black dress, crumpled to the floor, crying out in pain, a bullet lodged in her non-injured shoulder, bleeding.

She dropped her gun which slid away on the polished floorboard.

Jim immediately then pointed his gun at the petite gunslinger, before she could use her Derringer on him – the Derringer she had just pulled out of her sleeve.

He pulled the trigger and hit the henchwoman in her leg. She crumpled to the floor with a strangled cry, blood rapidly staining her yellow dress.

Carlotta Rodriguez picked up the little gun that Erika had dropped to the floor but she let it clatter to the floor, at her feet when she saw James West - who had shot her henchwomen move toward her - wearing some kind of mask on his face.

She pulled out a perfume spray from her reticule and a split second later, vaporized her love potion all around her.

But she groaned angrily seeing that her drug had no effect on the special agent. But there was a solution, she thought.

Carlotta Rodriguez threw herself against Jim, trying to rip the artificial lung off of the face of the man who was threatening her, but Jim shoved her back, brutally.

He kicked the guns away, sending them sliding on the polished floor in the opposite direction.

Pointing his Colt at Dr. Rodriguez, Jim said, "In the name of the US Secret Service, you're under arrest, for multiple charges, starting with kidnapping, attempted murder on…"

Carlotta interrupted Jim, ordering the President, "You want to please me, Ulysses? Kill that man! He's here to hurt me," she had a cold smile on her face.

Ulysses S. Grant stood and brandished a fist. Fury flashed in his clear blue eyes. "I'm going to kill him with my bare hands, Carlotta," he said in a gruff tone.

Jim took a step back – he couldn't fight against the President of the United States!

Carlotta sat back on the chair, watching the 'show', smiling.

He took another step back as the short, round-shouldered man stepped forward. "Mr. President, Sir…" He holstered his gun. "Sir, don't do that, please…"

Grant threw his best left hook at Jim who dodged expertly and hurriedly moved back even further.

The President advanced on Jim, his eyes darkening and his face contorted in fury. He threw himself at the other man and hit the agent's jaw with a solid left.

Jim managed to pull away, stumbled and fell on one knee, but he recovered quickly. "Mr. President, Sir, please…" He moved a few steps away.

Grant pounced on Jim again. His fist slammed into the younger man's nose, knocking Jim back and he had a satisfied smile, hearing his adversary groan in pain.

Dr. Rodriguez was very disappointed that the mask that James West had on his nose and mouth was still firmly in place.

But all was not lost, she thought.

The President thrust forward like a bull, his hands made tight fists at his sides… and froze in his tracks as he heard a muffled mew from inside James West's clothing. He spotted AG who had just poked his head and his front paws out from Jim's waistcoat.

"Mew! Mew! Mew!" The kitten let out, wanting to stop Grant.

He did it.

Instantly, the President dropped his aggressive posture and tilted his head to the side. "Oooh! It's a kitten!" He let out, staring at the ball of black fluff with surprise. Then his face shifted from anger to adoration.

This sudden change of mood surprised Jim and he relaxed. 'Everyone loves kittens', he thought. "Yes, Sir, it's a kitten. His name is AG."

He took his revolver and pointed it again at Dr. Rodriguez who was moving away from the fireplace, trying to be discreet. "Stay where you are, or I shoot you! Hands up!"

She froze and then complied.

President Grant held his left hand up for the cat to sniff it and cooed. "Ooooh, look at you! You're so small, you're so fluffy, you're so soft, like silk, and you're so cute, kitty," he said as the kitten left Jim's waistcoat, to prudently move into his large hand, sniffing his fingers. His hand wrapped lightly around AG's midsection the President observed him. "You're such a beautiful kitten..." then he held the kitten against his chest, cuddling the mini cat, with a grin on his face.

Reassured that everything was okay now, the mini-feline purred loudly and happily stretched his fuzzy paws across Grant's black waistcoat.

Looking at Jim who was keeping his gun aimed at Carlotta Rodriguez, the President asked, "Where did you find him?" and smiled when he felt the kitten's tiny paws kneading into the fabric of his white shirt, its nose buried into his neck.

Possessively, Jim said, "He's my cat, Mr. President. It's a long story." And chuckled softly when AG licked Grant's Adam's apple with a tiny pink tongue. "He loves you, Sir."

Men in the room – the ones still upright, at least, converged toward Grant and grouped around the kitten, all of them attracted like a magnet to the absolute adorableness of the tiny fluffy kitten, stroking it and kissing AG, taking turns, cooing, beaming.

The kitten was purring loudly, claws extending and retracting in pleasure.

Surprise gone, Jim realized what had happened, Carlotta Rodriguez's love potion had an unexpected side effect on drugged people: they were attracted to animals. Perhaps to kittens only, as AG was the only animal in the room, he couldn't know at that time, he thought.

Jim moved toward Dr. Rodriguez who was stunned. "It would seem that your love potion has an interesting side effect," he said.

Dr. Rodriguez scowled in defeat.

James West pulled out a pair of manacles from the inside pocket of his jacket and added, "Let me introduce you to AG the kitten, Dr. Rodriguez, my four-legged, pointy-eared and tailed partner. He has just saved the President and the country. He's a hero."

Proud, content AG purred loudly in President Grant's arms.

WWW

 _Much later, in the Wanderer en route to New York_

 _The President's stateroom,_

For a third time, Jim entered the Stateroom to see if the President was okay, and he was.

Grant was sitting on the bed, puffing on a very strong cigar, pillows piled at his back, petting AG, the kitten happily pillowed on his lap, purring loudly.

He smiled, again, reassured, again.

Jim chuckled softly while reflecting how he had put Dr. Rodriguez in a cell at the local police station, while all the men still standing on their feet after the big fight were petting AG – letting out cooing noises, totally in love with the kitten. 34 people in total! No kitten in the world had never been so petted! He had waited for the effects of the love potion to dissipate, then he had told everyone what had happened – and after that had left the medical personnel of the hospital to take care of the injured people.

Followed by the President's escort, he had accompanied a very embarrassed, no a very _mortified_ Grant to the Wanderer, the President cradling AG – his savior - against his chest.

Smiling, Jim cleared his throat. "I have just prepared dinner, Sir. I don't have Artemus's Chef talents, but I did my best. I made pork and beans."

Grant nodded, cigar clinched between his teeth. "I ate that during the war, it's my favorite meal." Then he took a drag on his cigar again.

Jim smiled. "I know that, Sir and I made buckwheat pancakes as well, because I know that you love them too."

The President chuckled. "You're spoiling me, Jim. Are you not-subtlety trying to obtain something from me? Because if you want a yes, it will depend on whether what you've prepared is good, or not."

Jim shook his head. "No Sir, I don't want anything. " He smiled, amused. "My cooking talents are very limited, and if Artie could talk he would say ' nonexistent'… and was cut off when AG meowed lowly in approval. He chuckled softly and added, "Then I certainly won't obtain anything… except being shot by a firing squad for attempting to poison the President of the United States, Sir."

The President frowned and exhaled a small cloud of blueish smoke. He lowered his cigar, his smile vanished and he said, "Once again, let me tell you that I'm sorry to have hurt you, Jim. I apologize again."

Jim waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's alright, Sir. You were drugged, you weren't yourself… and I won't say anything to your wife… I promise. Let's forget all this, Sir."

Grant nodded, "Alright, let's do that." Still holding his smoking cigar, he looked down at AG splayed out on his back, paws up in the air, batting weakly at the hand rubbing his belly, purring softly. "He's so adorable…one would never want to stop petting him, but I have to."

AG mewled in protest when Grant stopped petting him.

The President smiled. "That probably means, 'I'm hungry but I don't want to move, it's heaven!'" He brushed the kitten's nose. "Sorry, AG but I'm hungry too."

The little kitten squirmed, puffed out, upset, gave a high pitched squeak and glared at Jim.

WWW

 _Parlor suite_

Ulysses S. Grant couldn't help but pet AG's back while sipping his coffee. The kitten was crouched on the table, tail waving, drinking a saucer of milk up quickly with tiny lapping sounds.

Smiling, the President said, "It's still hard for me to believe that Artemus's mind is actually inside that kitten's head. It's so incredible!"

Pouring himself another cup of coffee, Jim nodded. "I know, I have the same problem, Sir."

Grant nodded. "He looks very content with his predicament."

Jim nodded too. "You know Artemus, Sir. He has a great ability to adapt to anything. But fortunately, in a few hours, Artie will be whole. Mind and body together."

Grant sighed. "But unfortunately, Loveless – that little twisted man - has vanished – again. I hope one day, he'll stay behind bars."

Suddenly there was a loud 'hoo-woo' and the Wanderer started slowing its course. Jim said, "We're approaching New York."

Grant nodded. "I'll stay inside the Wanderer. My escort, which are camping in the stable car, will keep me safe here when you're gone."

The kitten started to groom itself.

Looking down at AG the President asked, "What are you going to do with the kitten after Artemus is whole again?"

Suddenly Marmalade jumped onto the table and padded toward AG now sitting on his hind legs in front of an empty saucer.

She gave the kitten an affectionate lick on its head and AG purred.

Playing with Marmie's tail, Jim responded, "I think he's going to stay here, Sir, with Marmalade. Marmie's adopted Artemus and AG has adopted me."

WWW

 _Much later in Loveless's ex hideout,_

 _Machine room_

Holding AG against his chest, Jim moved toward the stretcher on which Artemus lay, immobile and very pale.

Two policemen in uniform were holding it.

He took Artie's limp hand in his, pressed it and said, "It's almost over buddy." Placing AG on top of Artemus's chest, he added, "Stay here AG, be a good kitty, I have someone to meet…" and then he headed toward Jeremy Pike, standing beside a man dressed in a black cloak, who had his face hidden behind a mask, and was sitting in his wheelchair.

Jeremy said, "Jim, this is Dr. Tristam – you've met before. He was the one who built that machine with the brains preserved in special tanks…"

Looking down at Dr. Tristam, Jim said, "Yes, I remember you. I thought you were dead in the explosion of your lab. But you survived…"

Dr. Tristam looked up at the agent, "Yes… I… managed… to… leave… the lab, … I… managed… to… extinguish… the… flames… by… wrapping… myself… in… a… blanket, …but… I… was… very… badly… burned. And… you're… the… one… responsible… for… my… present… condition,… Mr. West…I…am… burned… all… over… my… body, … I… am… constantly… wrapped… in… bandages… like… a… mummy; … I… am… disfigured, … forced… to… wear… a… mask,… when… I… am… not… alone… I… am… stuck… in… a… wheelchair… because… I… can't… walk… so… much… the… pain… is… intense, unbearable… continuous… Painkillers… barely… alleviate… pain."

His face as if carved in marble, Jim replied, "I will not pity you, you are a murderer, you killed Professor Robey, and other good, innocent people with your Greek fire that you could time to burst into flames."

The three men heard a series of low meows. AG was flicking his tail, getting impatient.

Pointing at the machine, Jim said, "You built this machine with Loveless, you know how it works, then you're going to transfer my partner's mind – actually in that kitten's head – back into his brain. Now. "

Dr. Tristam shook his head and crossed his arms on his chest. "No, … I…won't,… because… it… hurts… you and… I… want…you… to… suffer,… I… want… to… have… my… revenge…And… you… can't …force… me… to… do… that."

"Meowwwww!"

It was a meow of distress. Jim instantly abandoned Tristam to rush toward Artie – finding AG batting at his partner's face.

Artemus had started having trouble breathing and was fidgeting on the stretcher on which he was lying. Like a fish out of water.

Jim closed his eyes for a split second and willed himself to not panic. Regaining control of himself, he asked, "What's happening?"

Jeremy shook his head. "I don't know. He was alright before we brought him here…"

Artemus's face covered in a thick layer of stubble was ashen and he was shaking.

Feeling very anxious, Jim touched Artie's brow, feeling the skin burning beneath his digits. "He has a high fever… Maybe it's an infection…" He took his hand in his, and his fingers were cold.

Very worried too, Jeremy nodded. "It's possible, after Loveless removed the bullet… Artemus's body was possibly at risk of infection."

AG pawed its way to Artemus's throat and nuzzled the side of the human's face in an attempt to calm him down. But it didn't work.

Returning beside Dr. Tristam Jim said, "You're a murderer. You killed before, and you've killed again. You will be hanged this time. You won't be able to hide a second time. I offer you a choice: save my friend and I'll spare you the gallows. You will spend the rest of your days in a state prison. Do nothing, and I swear that your death will be slow, very, very slow."

Dr. Tristam snorted. "You… don't… have… the… power… to…offer… me… that… choice. You… are… just… a… federal… agent."

President Grant suddenly entered the room, "But I do," he said, moving toward the three men, followed by two agents, holding their guns. "And I will."

Stupefied to see Grant there, Jim and Jeremy stood at attention. "Mr. President," they said in a perfect chorus.

Grant puffed on his cigar. "I had the feeling that you would need my help, Jim," he said to the younger man. "My intuition never deceives me."

Jim nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Ulysses S. Grant leaned toward Tristam who was still totally dumfounded to have the President of the United States standing in front of him. "Transfer my agent's mind to his head, do it, now." Then, he quickly headed toward Artemus who now suffocating and cupped the distressed kitten in his hands, cradling it against his chest. "Shhh… it's going to be alright."

Dr. Tistam nodded – he would escape death again. "Alright. Bring… the… stretcher… close… to… the… machine," he said, and watched Jim and Jeremy do it in a flash.

He rolled his wheelchair close to the machine and activated it. "Mr. President, …put… the… kitten… on… that … stool… there… please."

Grant exhaled a cloud of blue smoke and kissed the kitten's head. "Talk to you soon, son," he whispered to the mini cat, and AG rubbed his head against the human's hand, purring.

WWW

 _Later in the hospital_

Eyes fluttering open, Artemus moaned in pain. His entire body ached, his muscles burning.

Disoriented, he blinked slowly, his vision hazy. He felt a hand holding his and he turned toward the dark blurred shape at his side.

He suddenly realized that he was a man – again. He smiled weakly. "Not… kitten… anymore," he croaked feeling immensely relieved. "Thank… God."

If his vision wasn't clear yet, his sense of smell was functioning perfectly and he immediately recognized the very strong tobacco scent that permeated the clothes of the other man.

He breathed, "M'r… P's'dent…"

Ulysses S. Grant smiled. "No, you're not a kitten anymore, son. It's good to have you back Artemus… I mean back _whole,_ mind and body."

He lifted his left hand and a nurse standing in a corner of the room moved forward. She brought a glass of water to Artie's lips and the former comatose man took a few thirsty sips. Artemus winced, his throat hurt like hell but cool water tasted like heaven.

The lovely brunette explained, "Dr. Colson fed you using a feeding tube, Mr. Gordon, with liquid food, the tube going from your mouth to your stomach. It irritated your throat when it was pulled out, before your friend took you from the hospital. The rritation should disappear within two or three days."

Feeling less groggy by the minute, Artie nodded. "Okay…"

The nurse continued, "You had a severe infection due to your recent operation. You almost died from it, but Dr. Colson managed to stop the infection, using his latest treatment, based on the use of the Penicilium glaucum…"

President Grant smiled. "Thank you, nurse." And the nurse moved back to where she had been standing. "Son, I'd like you to meet someone…" and he extended his hand toward Artie. AG was sitting in the large caloused palm, tail wrapped around its incredibly fluffy body.

Smiling, Artie reached for the black kitten. "Hi… " He giggled softly when AG started to lick his fingers with his tiny tongue. "He's so small, so cute…" Hearing a soft chuckle he slowly turned his head to the other side and looked up blearily at his best friend standing there. "Hey… Jim…"

Placing his hand on his partner's arm Jim said, "He's certainly cuter than you are. And a bit hairy too, but not that much."

Artie chuckled and winced. "Aaah! Don't make me laugh… it hurts."

Still smiling Grant placed the kitten on Artemus's chest. He stroked AG behind his ears and the mini feline purred happily. "How are you feeling son?"

His vision clearing a bit, Artie started tickling the kitten under the chin and said, "I'm immensely tired Sir… As if I had run two marathons in a row, and lost, and I am very, very, very – did I say _very_? - happy to be back in my body, even if it hurts badly," he replied groggily, exhaustion clearly overtaking him.

Intrigued Jim asked, "How was it to be a cat?"

Watching the kitten pad toward his face, Artie responded, "I was _me_ but complying to the cat's way of life, to his instincts… For example, I couldn't help but purr when someone was petting me… I mean, the kitten-me. The cat's mind was there too, I could feel it, but barely. It was just a faraway presence. It didn't interact with me. I can't tell if he was aware of what was happening to him, and if he was, he was probably terrified, poor kitty. At first… I was scared, scared a lot and utterly lost, and then… I eventually adapted, as I didn't have any other choice, and after a while, I started enjoying the experience… it was really fun to be a kitten. But, believe me, I'm very pleased and relieved it has ended." He grinned feeling the cat lick his stubbled chin and using two fingers, he petted AG's back, eliciting new purrs. "Adorable…"

Smirking Jim let out, "The kitten, yes, not you."

The door opened and Jeremy Pike entered the hospital room. He smiled. "Artemus! It's good to see you awake, how are you?"

Propping himself on his elbows, Artie said, "Hello Jeremy. It's good to see you again, with my own eyes. I've been in a better shape. I could use a long leave to rest…"

The president nodded. "Dr. Colson told me that you needed at least three weeks of complete rest before you can do anything demanding the slightest physical effort. I'm giving you four weeks, Artemus, a complete month to rest." He looked at Jim and added, "And you can stay at Artemus's side, looking after him, the leave extends to you too, Jim. You need that leave as well. You were shot too."

Cringing, feeling bad, Artemus said, "About that, I'm very sorry Jim… I couldn't control myself. You know that I wouldn't harm a hair of your head."

Smiling Jim said, "I know. I'm very sorry to have almost killed you Artie. Fortunately Loveless removed the bullet and saved your life."

Frowning, Artie nodded. "That won't stop me putting him in prison with great pleasure."

Moving closer to Artemus, unable to resist the urge to pet the kitten, Jeremy Pike added, "I escorted Dr. Tristam to the territorial prison, Sir. He'll stay there until he's transferred to Washington for his trial. I shall escort him there personally."

Totally surprised Artie said, "Who? Dr. Tristam? I've heard that name before… Wait a minute… Dr. Tristam… yes! He's the man who built that machine with the brains? The man who electrocuted me? But I thought he was killed when his lab exploded, burnt to ashes."

Jim nodded. "I too, but he wasn't. He's the one who activated the mind-transference machine – allowing you to reintegrate your body and mind - in exchange of prison to the rest of his life, instead of being hanged."

Feeling AG snuggle against his throat, Artie nodded slightly. "He's the one who helped Loveless to build that machine… Speaking of Loveless, any news?"

Pike shook his head. "None. He has vanished. He's hiding somewhere, plotting his next coup. We'll find him and arrest him – one day."

The President nodded, "No doubt of that."

WWW

 _Later, in the Wanderer_

Patting nervously at Artemus's arm, Marmalade meowed in worry, looking at AG perched on top of Jim's shoulder looking around him.

Lying on the couch, propped up on pillows, feet resting on a chair Artemus smiled. "Calm down, Marmalade, he's safe." He pulled the cat onto his lap and petted Marmie soothingly. Looking at Jim who was pouring coffee into a cup, he continued, "It would seem that AG has adopted you Jim, and it's a normal thing after you took care of him. He's a very good-natured kitten, you won't have any problem with him." He smiled, "Now we have a cat each, buddy."

Moving toward the couch, holding a cup of coffee, Jim said, "Yes we have and Marmie considers AG – I'm going to have to rename him now you're not in his head anymore - like her own offspring and she's all-mama-like with him… but we agreed to share custody." He took his place beside his partner and AG moved to the top of his head. "Do you remember? Marmie did that too when she was a kitten… " And he offered the cup of coffee to Artie. "Now that you're a human again, you can drink coffee…"

Bringing the cup to his lips, Artie chuckled and said, "Even your awful coffee seems heavenly…" And he took a sip, and grimaced. "Gaah!"

Raising a stern finger Jim said, " _Heavenly_ , you said! No complaining then." He felt AG play with his hair, mussing it and proposed, "Okay, AG needs a new name. What about BC? For Black Cat.'

Artie rolled his eyes. "You shouldn't be authorized to name things. You called your horse Blackjack and you want to call the kitten Black Cat? It's so very un-original."

Fingering AG's nose, Jim said, "Pot-kettle. Who called his horse Lockpick? You're horrible at names too. What kind of name is it for a horse?"

"A noble name, for a noble horse," Artemus responded.

Jim nodded. "Blackfur?"

"No."

"Blackfoot."

Artie sighed. "He's a cat, not an indian."

"Blackberry?" Jim proposed. Seeing Artie's frown he added, "I know; he's a cat not a fruit."

The two men where exchanging a broad smile when there was a knock at the door.

Jim stood and headed toward the door. He opened it, smiled and said, "Mr. President! It's a pleasure to see you again, Sir. Come in, please."

Ulysses S. Grant took a step inside… and grinned, discovering AG nestled on top of Jim's head, half-hidden in the tousled hair. "I think AG has made a nest up there…"

Smiling Jim reached up and touched the kitten's back. "Yes, Sir, he owns me now." He took Grant's wide brimmed hat and placed it on the work table.

Grant moved toward Artie who tried to stand but reconsidered when his wound burned. "Good day Sir," Artemus said and added, "I'll try not to move…"

President Grant nodded. "That's exactly what you have to do, son.' He scratched Marmalade behind her ears, and asked; "How are you feeling today, Artemus?"

Artie smiled. "I feel much better, Sir. Thank you – and thank you again for that month-long leave. I have plans to visit my mother and Harry. I haven't seen them for three months."

Grant nodded. "Give my regards to them, Artemus. I came here to say goodbye to you before leaving for the Capital, and thank you very much. You saved my life again… I am sure that woman planned to kill me, and you saved the institutions of this country too, and the United States. That's why, I, Ulysses S. Grant am giving you a special commendation…"

Immediately the two agents beamed and said, in a chorus, "Thank you Sir."

President Grant petted the kitten's head with one finger. AG wiggled a bit and seized the occasion to nibble at the human's thumb.

Grant chuckled and said, "Goodbye adorable kitty." He took his hat and opening the door, he added, "See you next week in Washington, gentlemen."

Jim and Artemus nodded. "Yes Sir."

Smiling, the President left.

Once the door was closed, Marmalade moved to Artie's lap as soon as her owner took his place on the couch. She turned herself around a couple of times, and settled down. Then she rolled over on her back, paws in the air, purring loudly, stretching luxuriously as her human rubbed her belly with his long artist fingers.

Sitting in the armchair, Jim asked, "What about calling AG, Chat Noir?"

Feeling that that conversation could take a long time, until Jim could find a suitable name for his kitten, Artie sighed. "Let's keep AG, AG standing for Adorable Gato, meaning adorable cat in Spanish."

Kissing AG's pink nose, Jim said, "Yes, he's adorable."

Tbc.


	6. Tag

**THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY LOVE POTION**

 **By Andamogirl**

WWW

 **TAG**

 _Washington railroad station yard_

 _A month later_

Straightening his cravat with one hand Artemus Gordon pointed with his other hand at his gunbelt, lying on the golden upholstered ouch. "Jim, look!" and Jim did, spotting AG (standing for Adorable Gato) huddled into the empty holster.

Only two blue eyes emerged from the shadow.

Sitting on the couch James West smiled. "Nice new _fluffy_ gun, Artie. How did he get in there? Cats love hiding in small places, you know that. He loves to hide in my shoes too, and in the drawers, under my bed…. " He wagged his finger at the kitten, which immediately batted its paw at it, mewing. "Come here AG, you're going with us tonight. You're invited to the White House, little buddy. You're a lucky kitty, you know that?! The President wants to see you again – and introduce you to his wife, who loves cats."

Immediately the mini cat moved out from the holster, puffing out, its fluffy tail swishing back and forth in excitement and it clawed its way up to its owner's shoulder, where he sat and started licking the human's neck while letting out rumbling purrs.

Smiling, Artie fingered the kitten's small blue ribbon tied up into a bow. "You're so elegant AG! Everyone will adore you!"

Jim nodded. "You're going to be spoiled tonight. You'll be petted, kissed…"

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Artemus who was the closest, opened it and found a small package sitting on the rear platform.

But no one.

He took a step forward, holding the golden decorative guard-rail and glanced around him. The station yard platform was deserted. Whoever had put that package there had left in a hurry.

But why?

Frowning, suspicious and worried – it could be a bomb – Artie saw that there was a piece of paper folded in two beneath the package. He knelt, took it, opened it and read the message "For the kitten. M. Q. Loveless. Be seeing you – or not."

He pocketed the message and brought the package inside.

He settled it on the work table and said, "It's a present from Loveless, for AG," and he held the message out to his partner.

Jim read it in his turn. "Or not?... it could be an explosive, deadly present."

Artie nodded. "Yes, and there's only one way to know…" He unwrapped the package and discovered a black box with a golden bow on the top. He opened it and pulled out a small red collar for a kitten with a golden locket. The letters AG were engraved on it. Very surprised, he asked, "How does he know…?"

Jim sighed. "Loveless knows everything regarding us." He handed back the message to Artie who slid it into his pocket. He took the collar and examined it closely.

Artie nodded. "I don't like this…" He said, his sixth sense tingling.

Jim petted AG's head. "I don't like it either…"

The older man sat on the chair, fished the message from his pocket and noticed a small arrow drawn at the bottom indicating to turn the sheet of paper over.

Frowning Jim said, "Present or not, I'm not going to put that collar on my kitten." He took Loveless's present from his best friend's hand and headed toward the door, opening it a few seconds later.

Artemus read the rest of the message and gasped.

Jim was ready to throw the collar outside when he noticed… dozens of cats running at top speed toward the Wanderer, meowing loudly.

Paling, very, very worried, Artie let out, "Oh dear God!"

His frowned deepened. "Artie, I think something is wrong out there…" He said, and turned around and saw that Marmalade and AG had both climbed on Artie's lap and were licking his face furiously, meowing loudly. "What's happening here?"

Lifting the message Artemus said, "Jim! Close the door!"

But it was too late, a horde of frenzy, meowing, cats invaded the parlor suite and, in a flash, the two men were submerged in a mass of licking felines.

Others entered the room in their turn and soon the whole parlor suite was filled with all the cats of this part of Washington – mad cats which started to fight each other so they could lick the two men's uncovered skin.

Lying on their back, spread-eagled, dozens of meowing cats pinning them to the carpeted floor Jim and Artie couldn't do anything.

Disappearing into a small mountain of colored fur and swishing tails, Artie raised his voice and explained, "There is a postscript to the first part of Loveless's message. He wrote that inspired by Dr. Rodriguez's work on drugs that alter normal behavior, he has accidentally created a special scent which attract cats to humans's skin… a special scent that he sprayed on the rear platform of the train and on the collar – a collar we both touched… it explains all the cats!"

Pushing two cats away from his face, dusting off the felines hairs from his nose and mouth, Jim said, "And now you tell me… Did I ever tell you that Loveless has a wicked sense of humor?" He heard Artemus giggle. "That's not funny!"

Propping himself on his elbows, pushing back relentless waves of cats, Artemus said, "I have an idea…" And he started to awkwardly remove his clothes, offering more skin to lick for the cats… "Use one of my knockout mini bombs, a blue one, it's the only way to get rid of those crazy cats…" He sputtered hairs. "Go!"

Sitting on his owner's face, AG started licking Artie's forehead frenziedly – growling and hissing menacingly as other cats wanted to do it too.

Once Artemus was in his short underwear almost all the cats converged toward him – abandoning Jim who had to get rid of a couple of gray strays, only.

He left the parlor car and ran down the narrow walkway toward Artie's lab.

He came back shortly after to find a compact mass of forty or more… meowing cats piled on top of Artemus - preventing him from breathing.

Jim suddenly realized that it wasn't a joke – at all. Loveless had _weaponized_ all the cats to kill Artie and he, so that they died of suffocation.

He put on his breathing mask and unpinned the small silver ball with a painted blue spot he was holding. He threw it to the floor where it exploded a split second later, scaring the demented cats, but only for a few seconds, then they re-started licking Artemus.

They didn't even leave him when a thick red smoke invaded the room.

But little by little the cats were affected by the powerful knockout gas which dissipated a couple of minutes later. In a flash Jim started to _de-cat-ify_ Artie, gently pushing the sleeping felines away from him.

He had one hour before the effects started to wear off, he thought.

He pressed two fingers against Artie's throat and sighed in relief as he felt his pulse throbbing against his fingertips.

Artemus was okay, or almost.

He was sleeping soundly too, but his skin was raw from having been licked by dozens of rough cats' tongues, and his whole body was covered with bloody scratches and tiny punctures let by the claws – and he was covered with cat's hairs – and he was bruised after being trampled by a horde of utterly excited felines.

He grabbed Artie by his wrists and maneuvered him to the closest couch. Then, he spotted Marmie and AG amongst the other cats and he settled them on the other couch.

After that he began to carry all the cats, two at a time out of the parlor suite, laying all of them on the station platform.

Once the parlor suite was emptied of the cat-invaders, he closed the door.

Using the communicating tube hidden on the side-panel of the faux-foyer, he asked the fireman and the train driver to steam-clean the Wanderer.

Loveless could have sprayed his scent all over the train.

It was urgent.

Finally Jim pulled out the first aid kit from the dresser, and, took his place on a chair beside his unconscious and injured partner. "Poor Artie…"

WWW

 _Later_

Marmalade pushed the door ajar and padded inside the bathroom.

She jumped on a bath towel, folded on the stool and sitting on her hind legs, she stared at Artemus, sitting in the bathtub, layers of bubbles surrounding him.

She was worried. "Meow?"

Raising a bubbly hand Artemus, stroked the cat's head. "I'm fine… the redness is gone and the scratches are just scratches and the punctures are hardly visible. That's nothing. They will vanish in a few days…" Marmie lowered her head, looking guilty now. "Ah! It's not your fault, Loveless is the one responsible, not you and not the other cats. He used all of you to kill Jim and I… and I must say it was close."

Entering the bathroom, Jim added, "And I have to say, for now, it's the most original way Loveless as found to get rid of us."

He was dressed in his most elegant suit and had AG perched on his right shoulder.

Moving underwater for a few seconds, Artie then emerged and combed his curled hair with his hands, pulling it backward.

Pouring homemade shampoo on his scalp, the older man nodded. "You're right – for now. Loveless's imagination in finding a way to kill us is limitless."

Cupping AG in his hand, Jim settled the little ball of black fur beside mama Marmalade who immediately started to lick the kitten with affection.

Purring AG rubbed himself against his adoptive mother.

Jim smiled fondly. "They're perfect together..." Looking down at Artemus he added, "The Wanderer had just been completely steam-cleaned. I burnt the box, the paper and the collar in the stove. We shouldn't attract all the cats in the vicinity anymore."

Artie snorted, "More like from the whole city, you mean." Moving his hand up to the top of his head, he began working the shampoo into a lather. "It's good to hear that. I love cats, but there were too many of them."

Using a pitcher, he scooped up soapy water and poured it on his head, rinsing away the lather. He did that twice and then playfully flicked some bubbles in the cats' direction.

Immediately AG tried to catch the bubbles floating in the air with his tiny paws and they eventually exploded in front of his face.

"Mewwwww!" He let out, frustrated.

Chuckling, Artie scooped up a handful of bubbles and blew them into the kitten's face. AG meowed in delight, popping a few bubbles with his tiny claws.

Frowning, falsely upset, Jim said, "Stop upsetting my cat. Play with yours…" And he took AG in his hands, then brought him protectively against his chest.

Reaching out, Artie said, "I need my bath towel, Marmie," and the cat leaped to the floor with feline grace. He grabbed the bath towel and stood, dripping water.

Artie wrapped himself in the fluffy material and stepped out of the bathtub, onto the rug, grimacing. His whole scratched, punctured and bruised body hurt.

Cringing in sympathy, Jim said, "Perhaps you should stay here tonight, Artie and rest. I'll explain everything to the President. He'll understand."

Shaking his head, Artie started to towel himself dry, gently, very gently. "Are you kidding? Miss the annual White House ball? Never! Never! Are we late?"

Jim shook his head. "No, we're not, because we decided to leave early to go to the new cabaret near the White House… We'll go another time."

Artie nodded. "Tomorrow night."

Once he was dry, Artemus put his bathrobe on and headed toward his sleeping compartment, Marmalade trotting behind him in the narrow walkway.

Opening his white shiny waistcoat, Jim carefully slid AG inside – where the kitten rolled in a ball, purring, feeling safe and content against his owner's chest. AG then poked his head out, just beneath Jim's white neck cloth tied in a bow.

"Mew!" AG let out, pawing the bow. He didn't like it.

Leaning against the doorframe Jim watched his best friend, now in his underwear and socks, gingerly put his shirt on, wincing with each move. "Are you sure you're up to going with me?"

Pulling his pants up, grimacing in pain, Artie nodded. He paused and narrowed his eyes with suspicion. "Yes, I'm sure. Are you trying to make me stay here?"

Placing a hand on his chest, right beside AG who started to lick it, Jim looked surprised and said, "Who? Me? What for? No, I'm not."

Snapping his fingers Artie continued, "Oh yes you are. I know why, or I know _who_. Beatrice! Beatrice van der Putten! She'll be there tonight! And the last time we met her, she hadn't decided with who she wanted to dance at the White House ball, you or me…"

"Meewwww!"

Stroking the kitten's head, Jim said, "AG's hungry, I need to feed him, see you later in the parlor suite, Artie…" and he left, quickly.

Scowling Artie called. "Jim! Jim! Come here!"

The end.


End file.
